


Affirmation

by kegel84



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, F/M, Gen, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-11-23 09:06:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kegel84/pseuds/kegel84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an ambush the outlaws make an unpleasant discovery. While trying to deal with the consequences, an injury of a single man leads on a path of disaster for all of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Good Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set season two-ish, after Angel of Death, but before Ducking and Diving, and goes AU from there.

The leaves crunched under his feet with every step he took. This was just one more reason why they needed to be there and ready before the wagons arrived. The forest road lay quiet as of yet, while the gang of outlaws moved swiftly through the underbrush.

It was a rather chilly day and the cold wind blew the leaves from the trees, making it all the more clear that winter was coming. On some days the sun still warmed them well enough, but nights were cold. Harvest had been finished weeks ago and the people had stocked up as well as they could. So had the outlaws, knowing that another hard winter was before them. Harvest had not gone over as well as could be hoped for. The peasants had lacked seed and tools when it had come to sowing in the spring, so the fruit of their labour had not been plenty.

So it had not surprised Robin when he had heard about a delivery of grain, wheat and barley, from another shire being brought to Nottingham this day. The gang had debated the rightfulness of taking these supplies. There had been arguments that the food was intended for the people of Nottingham and that it was wrong to steal it. Robin had argued that the supplies would never even reach the tables of the town's people, but would only be used for the sheriff's gain. Eventually he had made the final decision; they were to ambush the delivery and take the food. If the food was meant for the people of Nottingham then it would get to them. It would also serve to fill their own stores for the coming winter.

Robin came to a stop, crouching down to stay out of sight from the road. He could see Much few feet away from him and glanced around to find Djaq hidden on his other side. They did not know how long they would have to wait. Information never was and never could be exact when it came to the time of arrival. A train of wagons filled with supplies would move slowly, could be stopped by any impediment on the road and was therefore easily delayed.

Robin checked his bow, making sure that it was ready. When he looked up again, he saw that Much was moving into his direction, the leaves sounding under his feet just as loudly as under Robin's. He frowned, worrying about their cover for a moment. Then Much came to a stop and crouched down next to him.

"When did Marian say they would come through?" he asked, whispering.

"She didn't know for sure," Robin answered quietly. "She said it was planned that they arrive this afternoon."

"Afternoon? Now that's not very helpful. We could be waiting here for hours." Much shook his head, dissatisfied.

"We could also be at the camp without food supplies," Robin pointed out, observing the road.

"At least it would be warm there."

Robin didn't reply as he saw a movement down the road. Then he also heard the sound of hooves. As far as he could tell, whoever was coming was riding slowly and it fitted with them accompanying slowly moving wagons. He glanced along the bushes at the other side of the road to see if he could make out Will, Allan and John anywhere. They were nowhere to be seen though, which was a good sign for Robin, telling him that they would not easily betray their presence to anyone coming through. An arrow from his bow would be the signal for them to emerge from the forest; once having settled in for the wait, they would not move until they received it. If they were lucky and it was actually the supply of food now moving up to them, they would not have to wait for very much longer.

A few minutes later Robin had a clear view on the train that was coming along. They were the wagons that they were expecting. Two guards were riding before them and several more followed after the last wagon. There were three carts in the whole and Robin's excitement about the amount they would be able to take was only briefly dampened by concern whether they would even manage to move all of that away. They would have to take the wagons themselves, so much had always been clear. They needed to disable or fend off the guards and then move the carts along with the animals that were pulling them into the forest. It would be a difficult task. The wagons would move even slower than on the main road, they would have to make a detour to even move them at all, a detour through open roads and clearings the outlaws usually avoided if they wanted to get away from a place as quickly and as securely as possible.

Robin waited for the first guards to have passed them, the first wagon to have moved by as well, before he aimed an arrow and let it loose. As it flew through the air, the outlaws jumped out onto the road, using more bows to keep the guards in check.

"This is an ambush," Robin announced, as the guards at the front of the train turned around to see what the commotion was about. "We are going to take these supplies and give them to the poor of this shire."

"This is food for the people of Nottingham," one of the guards pointed out with a determined voice.

"This is food the sheriff has ordered. He is using the people's tax money for it, but they won't see a kernel of this," Robin argued back. "We are going to take it, and give it to those who need it the most."

The other man did not bother replying once more, but instead charged ahead at Robin.

It was a quick, ugly fight.

The outlaws had surprised the men and the arrows that had been aimed did most of the work, only a minor skirmish taking place at the back of the train where Will and Allan were fighting the guards that had been following after the wagons.

The last guard who was still on his horse soon fled, horse and rider vanishing from sight quickly.

"Alright, lads," Robin spoke up, as soon as the man was gone. "Let's get these wagons off the road."

It was easier said than done. Much and Djaq moved the first wagon along, while Robin and John took the second and Allan and Will secured the third, but they could not simply leave the same way they had come. They had chosen this place for the ambush for a reason, knowing there was a trail down the road that they could use. This trail was what they needed to reach quickly to get out of sight of the main road. The one guard that had fled would soon return with more troops. Robin knew that troops would be scouring Sherwood as soon as the shipment failed to arrive, but he had counted on at least half a day’s time to store the goods. Now they were lucky if they had but a few hours.

The train now moved slower than ever before though. The oxes that pulled the wagons had been disturbed by the battle and the stubborn creatures refused to move in any direction whatsoever. It took a lot of convincing on the outlaws’ part to get them moving once more.

Robin kept watching and listening increasingly concerned. They could fight another battle, it wasn't a problem in itself, but still it increased the risk immensely and in case there was a high number of guards sent after them, they might even have to give up their prey, unable to move fast enough with it. Moving fast was often the only advantage they had, that and the ability to blend in with the forest. Neither of these advantages were given to them now. Still, Robin was determined to make this mission work.

The wagons were keeping up a slow pace now and they would reach the trail that would lead them deeper into the woods soon. Robin was walking next to the wagon that John was driving. The man directed the animal in front of him calmly and Robin looked to see Much and Djaq managing just as well now. He turned to the last wagon that Will was driving silently, while Allan was talking. Robin wasn't able to understand what he was saying, but he seemed to enjoy himself well enough. He jogged towards them and Allan's stream of words stopped.

"What's wrong?" Will was the one to ask.

”I want to make sure the road behind is clear," Robin told him, pointing behind the men.

"Wouldn't they send someone from Nottingham?" Allan questioned, motioning in the opposite direction.

"Not yet," Robin shook his head. "They know supply wagons would be slow, and probably won't expect it to arrive until later. I expected they would send someone out in the morning when it didn’t arrive, but the guard that got away is going to raise an alarm." Walking past the wagon with the two men now, he added, "I'll be back soon."

He moved along the road for a few minutes, but went off it and into the underbrush then, unwilling to be seen by anyone coming along, alerting them of the outlaws' presence even before they could see the train of wagons. He ran for a good deal of time, but saw nobody on the road. It was a relief, though it surprised him that there was nobody coming. After a long while, he both remembered his promise to be back soon, as well as the fact that there had enough time passed for the wagons to have reached the trail now. His men would move them along there and Robin would find them, but still, it was time to go back. With a last look down the empty, quiet road, he turned and headed back through the woods that gave him at least some protection of the increasingly chilly winds.

* * *

The ox finally did what Will wanted. The animal had been headstrong at first, or frightened maybe. When the outlaw had first climbed on the wagon at least, it had not moved at all. Allan had tried to convince it to walk along, had called it a few names, but still it had taken them several minutes before the cart was moving in the direction they wanted.

It all gave Will a feeling of vulnerability. They were moving slowly and they were obvious, too obvious on the main road, for Will's taste. He was glad to be sitting now though, for the manner of movement wasn't the only thing that made him feel vulnerably. The battle had been brief, but as brief as it had been it hadn't left him unharmed. A guard had made a lucky strike, and had grazed Will's leg in falling. The sword had not cut deeply and while Will had felt a sharp sting, it had not stopped him from ending the fight.

None of the others had even noticed, and Will had not chosen to mention it. There was no time to stop because of it and he was fairly certain that the cut was only minor. If need be, he could still have Djaq take a look at it later, once they were back at the camp and had hidden the supplies safely away.

It took them a long while to finally reach the trail that would lead them deeper into the forest but also enabled them to take the carts with them. Robin hadn't returned from his scouting mission yet, but neither had any guard or traveler come along the road, causing any trouble for the outlaws. Once they were at the trail they moved off the road quickly, knowing that Robin would find them later.

Will drove the wagon for a little while longer, but once the way became harder to get through, he climbed off the cart. Both he and Allan worked to direct the ox on foot. John managed alone a little way ahead, but Much and Djaq seemed to be in trouble.

"Can you manage on your own for a while?" he asked, turning to Allan who was pulling the ox on the other side. "I’m going to help out Much and Djaq."

"Sure," Allan pulled the ox with a jerk, "I'll be alright."

Will left him to his own devices, and moved to catch up with Djaq and Much. They were struggling with a headstrong ox, trying to get the stubborn beast to move. One of the cart wheels had fallen off the main path, landing in a deep puddle. The noise must have scared the ox, and now the creature was reluctant to help move the cart along. Will leaped over the root of a tree, trying to get to them, landing on his injured leg. A sharp pain shot up from the wound. Each step was hurting now, but Will gritted his teeth, as he came up next to Djaq and helped her and Much to move the cart out of a puddle, the pain finally fading to the back of his mind.

"Where's Robin?" Much asked then, as they had the wagon and ox back on fairly even ground.

"He went to check if the road is clear," Will explained, motioning into the direction of the forest road they had left a while ago.

"Why isn't he back yet?" Much gave an annoyed glance to the ox.

Will shrugged. "He's going to find us."

"I hope he does," Much nodded. "Then he can move his carts all by himself!" After a pause he added, "It was his idea, wasn't it?"

"Marian's, I think," Djaq pointed out, still doing her best to keep the animal on track.

"Well, she surely didn't suggest we move a group of ox along with carts through the underbrush!"

Will shook his head. "We'll be at the hiding place soon. We can unload the carts there and send the ox away."

"I'll be happy to see them go," Much claimed.

"We could slaughter them," Djaq suggested, "Dry the meat so we have some for the winter."

Much nodded. "That's a good idea."

"I'm not sure we are going to have time for that. You ever slaugther an ox before? It takes time. Time we may not have," Will pointed out, looking back to see how Allan was faring.

"We can ask Robin," Much said. "I'll do it."

Will smiled, but flinched then as he strained his leg too much in a step over uneven ground. When he next looked at Djaq he saw her watching him quizzically. He debated briefly to tell her about the injury, but at this moment Robin appeared at the back of their track.

"Road’s clear. I think we’ll be fine,” he told them, before going to help Allan with the cart Will had left earlier.

They arrived at the hiding place they had previously decided on when the sun had gone down. It was even colder now than before and the torches they had lit emitted only little warmth.

"Alright, lads, we’ll unload the carts and take part of the supplies the villages tomorrow. We keep a part, too, to fill up our own stores." Robin fixed the torch he had been carrying in the forest ground and turned to the first wagon. "Let's start with that one," he suggested, picking up a sack of grain and unloading it from the cart. There was an angry squeak, the outlaws barely catching sight of the creature as it ran further back into the cart.

“I hate rats!” Much complained, stepping back from the cart. Robin tossed the first sack into the store with little effort.

“What do you expect? They’re only looking for food too,” Robin chided him, grabbing another. The others joined in as well, Much following behind at a slower pace.

Working together it didn’t take long to unload the cart. Robin moved to unhitch the animal, prepared to send it on it’s way when Much stopped him.

"Djaq suggested we slaughter the ox and keep the meat for the winter."

“Food is scare,” she added, coming up along the pair. “There are only two wagons left; two unload, the rest will take care of the meat.”

"It's an idea," Robin nodded thoughtfully, but let out a sigh. “I don’t know if we’ll have time for that just yet. The grains are more important.” He turned to Will then. "I’ll need you and Allan to carry some of these back to camp. The rest of us will stay here and finish unloading. If we have time we might be able to take care of one of the oxen, so make haste."

Will wanted to say no, knowing how each and every step of the way to and from camp would hurt, but knew better than to protest. Time was of the essence, and complaining now, or showing weakness, would help no one. There would be time for rest later. Still, Djaq frowned at him when his glance fell on her, but he hefted several sacks in his arms. Allan followed his example, and the two men walked off deeper into the forest.

Will wasn't sure exactly how far the camp was away, but he knew it to be a fair distance, as they had purposefully not taken the carts all too close to it. Walking the distances was usually no problem, they were used to it, and Allan showed no sign of exertion as he moved along next to Will. The younger man knew though that he would not enjoy the walk.

"It's just right we keep some of the food at the camp," Allan informed him then. Will remained silent. "We have to eat, too, after all. And if we work to get food all year, we shouldn't be the ones starving in winter."

"Some of the food we're going to keep in the storages is going to be for emergencies in the villages," Will reminded him finally.

"And what about us?"

"We're going to eat some of it, of course, but if it's gone, we can still hunt. The villagers are not going to dare doing it, when they risk losing limbs when caught."

Allan frowned. "I almost lost a finger once."

"We're outlaws. We'd lose our heads if we were caught," Will shrugged. "So we have to make sure we're not caught."

"You don't have to tell me that," Allan grumbled. "Only shows we should keep what we have, making sure we don't have to risk our necks later just to get something in our bellies."

Will didn't answer, trying to focus on the steps he was taking so as not to strain his bad leg all too much. It was in a constant dull pain now that turned into a sharp one every time he put too much weight on it. He was glad when they reached the camp and was almost tempted to ask Allan to return alone. But he knew he could not just wait here by himself. He wouldn’t be able to lie when asked what was wrong, and news of his injury would only cause hassle and worry among the others, so he kept silent, and followed Allan as soon as the food had been safely stored.

It was another long walk, each step reminding him that he should be resting, not walking. When the carts came into sight he almost felt like crying, or laughing, from sheer exhaustion brought forth from the pain in his leg. Will could barely put any weight on the leg anymore at all and wondered if the others would not notice it anyway. He could not rest now, for the grains had to be stored, and if Robin did follow through with the slaughter there would be much more work to do, and another long hike back with heavy meat. Yet once they returned to camp, he hoped Djaq would be able to take a look at the injury and maybe lessen the pain.

Will had been so focused on these thoughts that he only noticed after a few seconds that the carts hadn’t even been unloaded. The two wagons that had been left when he and Allan had headed off were actually almost full.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking at the worried faces of Djaq and Robin and the disgusted expression of Much who was also the one to answer.

"There are rats...dead rats."

Will frowned in confusion. It was no news that parasites dealt damage to food and grains. It was unfortunate that some of the grain was likely gone, but he didn't understand why everyone seemed so upset about it. “Rats die all the time, so what? Let’s finish unloading," he suggested, raising his eyebrows to show his confusion.

Djaq shook her head. "We think the rats died of poison."


	2. Night Hours

Will was stunned. “Poison?“ he asked baffled, looking first at the sacks of grain that still filled two of the carts they had gained in their ambush, and then back at Djaq.

She nodded.

“We cannot be sure,” Robin contradicted her, crossing his arms as he walked around the one empty cart with a scowl on his face.

Djaq turned to him with a grave expression. “The way the rats look, I have seen it so many times before. People lay out poison to kill the rats. They die quickly.”

“So somebody could have laid out poison somewhere, the rats ate it, got between the grains then and died there,” Will suggested, unwilling to give up on all of the supplies.

The Saracen shook her head. “They die quickly. They were in the bags; these rats died from the grains.”

Robin still did not seem convinced, or maybe he did not want to be convinced. Will could understand the sentiment. These supplies were vital for them and their desire to aid the villagers.

“We have to make sure,” Robin decided.

“Not being funny, but how can we make sure? I'm not going to eat any of it to test it,” Allan shook his head at the archer.

“No; no one will eat any of this before we have made sure it's safe,” Robin agreed with the man. He looked at the animals that had pulled the carts and that were now feeding of the plants that grew at their feet. “Feed a bag to an ox; we’ll see what happens.”

Nobody spoke up against this plan as Much and John went to empty a sack of grain in front of one of the oxen. The animal merely moved from chewing plants to devouring the grain, while the outlaws were watching curiously in the shine of their torches.

With the entire pile gone, the ox seemed fine. In fact, once finished with the grains, the creature turned back to plants that had caught its attention before.

“Well, the ox isn't dead,” Much stated after a while. “So the grain is safe, right?”

“It takes a lot more poison to kill an ox than to kill a rat. And more time,” Djaq reasoned. “We have to wait.”

“We can't stay here all night, now can we?” Allan questioned, clearly shivering.

“We wait,” John said decisively. The outlaws settled down as best as they could, Will joining Djaq close to one of the torches they had put into the ground. He wanted her to take a look at his leg, but was still trying to come up with a way to address it without worrying her too much.

“Do you have time?” he asked her quietly. Her response never came.

“Hey, he doesn't seem to be doing so well,” Allan said suddenly and everyone's attention was drawn to the animal that was shaking now. It had stopped feeding of the plants and was stepping around them nervously instead. Moments later it laid its head on the forest ground, its legs twitching until it fell.

“I guess that answers our question,” Allan remarked dryly.

“They poisoned the food!” Much exclaimed. “They really poisoned the food!”

“We don't know if it happened on purpose,” Will pointed out, unwilling to believe that anyone would go so far to spoil food the people desperately needed. “It could have been an accident.”

“Of course they did it on purpose! They knew we'd take the food and eat it and get sick and die!” Much cast dark glances at the sacks of grain.

“It could be corn cockle,” John said quietly. “The weeds grow in fields. Sometimes they get harvested as well.”

“Whatever the case we must destroy it. We’ll have to burn it,” Robin said suddenly. He had been silent so far, but wore a dark expression on his face just like Much did.

“What?” Will found himself exclaiming. “I mean, we know that one sack was poisoned, but maybe the sacks in the other wagons are not. If its…whatever John said, then surely it can’t be in every sack.” He paused. “Robin…we need these supplies.”

Robin nodded grimly. “I know.”

“We could test every sack and try if it is good or bad,” Djaq suggested. Will wanted to agree with her, still not ready to give up on all the food.

Robin shook his head though. “We cannot risk it.”

“Once we've tested it, it's gone too, I'm just saying,” Allan pointed out.

“But we cannot just burn it all!” Will knew he was fighting a lost battle.

“We have to,” Robin decided. “We can't just leave it out here either. If someone finds it...” He shook his head. “Much is right. The sheriff knew we'd ambush the delivery. I have a hard time believing this is just an accident. He knows that we are hungry, that the people are hungry, would guess we would try to take the supplies. He must have had the food poisoned. He knew we would eat it first before taking it to the villages. And if we did…a few dead peasants would not bother him,” he added with a furious undertone. “That's how the sheriff thinks. He doesn't mind if people die just so he can get rid of us or give us a bad name. Many people would die. Others would think we are murderers, giving poisoned food to people in need.” Robin was pacing alongside the wagons now.

“We cannot burn it here,” John stated with a firm voice.

Robin turned to the man, his expression still showing his anger.

“John is right,” Will agreed, before Robin would argue his point again. “If we make a large fire here, with all the dry leaves around, the forest might catch fire.”

Allan shuddered. “Now don't give the sheriff yet more ideas.”

“Or Gisborne,” Robin added darkly. “He burned down Knighton Hall; he'd burn down the forest to destroy our camp, if he thought he had to.”

“But surely he wouldn't-” Much started, but Robin interrupted him.

“John is right. We need to find another place, a clearing, where we can burn it all.”

It was a depressing thought to put all the effort into destroying supplies that could have helped to such a degree, if it wasn't for the screwed plans of the sheriff. Will joined in loading the sacks of grain they had unloaded earlier back onto the wagons. The night had proceeded far now and it was only the work they were doing that kept them warm. As they had only two of the oxen left now, they had to load everything on only two of the wagons. They would have to dispose of the sacks back at camp at a later time.

Will was more than weary when they were done and was glad when Robin asked him to drive the first wagon back out on the forest road. Djaq joined him while John and Much took the second and Robin once again vanished to see if the road was clear. They didn't expect anyone to come through at this time of the night. Now that they knew of the sheriff’s plan, they also knew the man was not bringing back any help.

* * *

It had been a long day for him. He was used to it though, his profession demanded that he was ready and willing to wait for long hours, to be on the watch day and night if need be.

The order had been simple at first, though maybe taxing for anyone less patient than him. He was to follow the train of wagons that crossed Sherwood Forest this afternoon on their way to Nottingham. He was to remain out of sight, not just of the guards that drove and protected the carts, but also of anyone else who might be watching.

He had moved through the forest carefully, staying off the main road and in good distance from the slowly moving wagons. The sheriff had made clear that he was only to watch, not to intervene in any case. He had assured the man he would do so only too readily. It was not part of his job to meddle in any fighting. He was no warrior, at least not in this sense of the word. He was only there to watch without being seen and report what he had witnessed later to the closest detail.

It had been a slow travel through the forest, the wagons stopping several times because something was blocking the way. He had waited patiently each time. He was clad in warm clothes and had sufficient supplies to last him through the day and night.

Hours had passed before anything interesting happened. It hadn't come as a surprise to him as the sheriff had warned him about what he had to expect. Outlaws emerged from the forest, aiming their arrows at the guards that accompanied the wagons. He remained where he was, calmly watching. There was a short exchange between a guard and one of the outlaws, but then the fight started, only to be over soon. Most of the guards fell, only one man escaped. The outlaws triumphed.

The man allowed himself a small smile as he watched them battling with the oxen then. It took them longer than the fight with the guards had lasted. After a while, the track was finally moving again. Yet a little later one of the outlaws, the one he assumed to be the infamous Robin Hood, left the others to their own devices, making his way along the road. He had nearly been caught then, having to draw even further into the brush. He waited well until Robin Hood was out of sight before he moved on, following the track along the road and finally a trail that lead them deeper into the woods.

By the time the outlaws stopped their leader had returned and they started unloading their prey. The spy settled down nearby. It was night now, but he could see them easily in the shine of their torches. He had lit no light for himself. He only watched as two of the men left, carrying away part of the supplies they had stolen.

It was not long after the men had left that an uproar among the other outlaws started. Now the man was really curious. He knew the food had been poisoned, the sheriff had told him, so he knew what to watch out for. He could not imagine that the outlaws had detected the fact so quickly. Surely none of them had eaten from the grain yet. It was in no state that a human would touch it; it still had to be processed; it could, in this form, only be fed to animals. This was a possible explanation; they had fed one of the oxen with it. The man observed the animals closely, but they appeared to be doing fine.

It was then that he saw one of the men picking up a small, hairy animal. The long tail gave away the rat, and he could hear one of the men complaining about the dead rats they had found in the supplies. So they had only found vermin, not discovered the poison.

Then a smaller man spoke up. It was a woman actually, he noted, observing her more closely. She was clad like a man, but his trained eye did not miss it; she clearly belonged to the other sex. She told the other outlaws of her suspicion that the rats had died of poison. They did not seem to believe her at first, but she spoke convincingly in what was obviously not her native tongue.

The two outlaws who had left earlier returned and the man listened to the discussion among the thieves, to their arguments about what they were to do with the poisoned supplies. Some were not convinced of the fact. Some of the grain was fed to one of the oxen. It took a while until it died, but die it did, and the outlaws had the proof they needed.

His interest was sparked once again when the decision to burn the food was made. The men packed up the supplies and returned with two of the wagons to the forest road. They would search for a place where they could make a fire, but for now they were once again moving at a slow pace at first along the trail, then on the road.

The man made sure to move faster now. Once he had determined the direction the outlaws were taking, he hurried for the first time on his mission. With light steps he moved through the forest, heading for the nearest village. This night would become more interesting yet.

* * *

In the hours of the early morning Will set a fire to the heap of grain they had mounted on a clearing near the edge of the forest. They had cleared the surrounding space of dry leaves and branches. The carts had been set aside, the two surviving oxen feeding on the plants of the forest once again.

Djaq knew how little Will liked the fact that they were giving food to the fire, food that had been supposed to last the peasants through the winter. Robin seemed just as angry. He was concerned about the renewed lack of food they were facing as well, but she understood that it was especially fury about the sheriff's actions that was burning inside him now. While the fire grew, greedily eating the food, Djaq walked over to him. He stood there, a deep frown on his face.

“We can be glad we noticed that the food is poisoned,” she reminded him gently.

After a moment he nodded. “I know.”

“The sheriff intended an evil that did not happen,” she continued and Robin rubbed his face.

“Not to think of what would have happened, if we had given the food to the peasants.” He shook his head.

“Many would have died,” Djaq confirmed, remembering the strong ox falling, his legs twitching.

“How many will starve this winter?” Robin replied, a helplessness in his voice that Djaq did not like, but she had no answer for him and neither was it in her nature to give him false hope. Not that Robin would fall for it anyway.

She moved closer to the warmth of the fire, it serving at least this one purpose for her. She had never quite gotten used to the coldness of the English land. She was not looking forward to the winter. She watched the flames dancing, the early morning sun joining them to light the forest clearing.

“I told you!”

The shout had come from behind her. Djaq turned around and saw the other outlaws doing the same, as none of them had been the one to call. A group of men was running up to the patch of forest and she realized that they must have seen the smoke that was rising up to the sky, higher than even the top of the trees around them.

“First they steal the food, then they burn it!” the same man as before cried out, but he was not speaking to the outlaws, but to the other men instead who were likely peasants as Djaq quickly noted, judging from their appearance. The peasants stood aghast, staring at the burning mountain of grain, while the sly man who had spoken almost seemed to blend in with the trees.

Robin strode forward. “This food is poisoned,” he called, pointing at the flames.

“I saw them taking several sacks away, probably to their hiding place,” the unknown man retorted, once again speaking to the peasants rather than Robin.

Before anyone else could say anything, several more men appeared, riding, guards instead of peasants this time. The villagers hurried to get out of their way, while Djaq counted at least two dozen men approaching.

“Go,” Robin called. “Go!”

Djaq followed the order, hastening into the bushes, leaving the burning remains of their efforts behind. She ran, jumped over roots and fallen branches, following narrow trails that led her deeper and deeper into the forest, the underbrush getting thicker the further she went. After a while she slowed down, certain to have lost any guards who might have followed her.

Now she had to get back to camp, as all the outlaws would do, once they had left any pursuers behind. Djaq was not sure where exactly she was, but she could tell the general direction. The trees were too thick over her to see the sun, although the leafy trees had lost almost all of their foliage. When she finally reached a small clearing, she tried to determine the direction she had to go by the shafts of light streaming through the branches. Knowing it was still in the morning, the sun provided her with a much needed trail to follow.

She was tired. They had left the camp around noon the day before, had made their way to where the food delivery was to come through in the afternoon and it had taken them till the night had broken the previous autumn day to begin unloading the goods they had stolen. It had all been in vain at the end, although Djaq still hold herself to the calmness of mind that they had avoided a far worse situation by their discovery poison. A slight worry crept into her though, when she thought of the situation earlier, before the guards had arrived at the burning site and the outlaws had scattered into the woods. The villagers would be angry…but given time they would surely understand.

It was once again around noon when Djaq arrived back at the camp. Allan was there, as well as Much and John. She could see neither Will nor Robin, but Much told her that the latter had been there and had left on his own some time earlier. Will's absence caused her greater worry, for another picture she had witnessed earlier came back to her mind.

“Will,” she said suddenly, as she remembered her earlier realization. The other three man looked up, expecting to the see the as of yet absent man arriving at their homestead, but there was no one and they turned to Djaq in confusion. “Did he get away?” she asked, slightly anxious now.

“Sure he did,” Allan replied, shrugging. “Why wouldn't he?”

Djaq had relaxed somewhat after the first part of his answer, only for the worry to come back fully when she understood that Allan was only following his assumptions.

“He was hurt,” she said.

“Who was hurt?” Robin asked sharply, appearing at her side with quick paces.

“Will. He was hurt when we were fighting the guards yesterday. He had trouble with his leg. He did not say anything. I think he did not want anyone to worry.”

“He hasn't come back yet,” Robin stated grimly. It wasn't a question.

“He was in pain;” Djaq went on. “I do not think that he could not run. I thought he would come to me. Would ask for help. But he did not.” She shook her head sadly. “I know he cannot have run. I should have gone to him.”


	3. The Beauty of It

“It's marvelous, Gisborne, simply marvelous.“ The sheriff turned to the addressed man, spreading his arms. Gisborne remained silent. “This shows that you have to think things through,” he went on, as the other man looked at him unmoved. Thinking things through was not his Master-At-Arms' strength, Vaysey knew that, but that was why he was Master-At-Arms, not Master-of-Strategy. The sheriff gloated.

“But what have we achieved, my Lord?” the man spoke up now. “Good food has gone to waste.”

“To waste, Gisborne? No.” The man clenched his fists in a victorious pose. “It was an experiment and it has worked.” Gisborne's face showed no understanding. “I know I shouldn't be using these big words with you.” The sheriff rolled his eyes, once again wondering if the other man could actually read. “I tell you, Gisborne, Hood could not win this time! No matter what he did! That's the beauty of it!”

“He ambushed the delivery wagons-,” Guy started.

“Yes, yes,” the sheriff confirmed eagerly. “Think about it,” he went on, figuring that he was once again expecting too much of the man. “If he and his men had shared a meal from it, we would have been rid of the whole lot of them, all at once! There would have been no grand rescue! All the outlaws would have died a wretched death in the forest.”

“But that didn't happen,” Gisborne once again stated the obvious and Vaysey grimaced.

“No…but if the outlaws had given the food to the oh-so-poor, yes, this would have been marvelous as well.”

“The peasants would have died.”

“Yes, they would! And who would have been blamed? Hood! Forever losing the trust of the dear villagers, branded a murderer.” The sheriff smiled. “Now that was an interesting idea and a grand picture to imagine, and a simpler mind would have left it at that, but not me!” he explained. “I considered the possibility that Hood would notice the food was poisoned. It wasn't likely he would do so before either outlaws or peasants died, but still, I considered it.”

“And you placed your man there to follow the outlaws.”

“Exactly,” the sheriff smirked. “Following them when they run is tricky, but following when they are slowed down by the consequences of their deeds, now that is different. You always have to be not one step ahead of them, but two, that is how you beat them!” He paused to let Gisborne catch up in thought. “I wanted to know what happened, wanted to know if they noticed. They would have no choice but to destroy the food. To save not only themselves but their pathetic little peasants.” He showed his teeth widely. “We would have won either way; even if they happened to smell a rat.” He grimaced, remembering the spy's tale and that it had actually been dead rats that had given away the poison.

Guy listened, still missing the entire point of what he was saying. “What does destroying the food accomplish?”

“When our little spy heard that they wanted to burn it, he left and collected some peasants from the nearby villages. He told them about a huge delivery of food about to be destroyed in the forest, and the poor, starving men could not help but follow! And what a picture, what a picture!” the man clapped his hands. “I wish I could have seen Hood's face when he was caught burning the food in front of the peasants' eyes!” The sheriff's smile vanished. “It is a sad thing, Gisborne, that we don't have painters talented and quick enough to catch the splendor of such a moment!”

Gisborne looked for a second as if he had asked him to find such men. The Master-At-Arms was so pathetic sometimes.

“But we didn't get Hood,” he pointed out.

“No, not Hood, but one of his men we got. He's in the dungeons now. We will take care of him later. More importantly: we have a story! A story telling how Robin Hood stole mountains of food from the poor people and then burned it in the forest, condemning the people to starve in the winter! Yes, a story! A story that will spread. The peasants will tell it in their village, people will keep talking and everyone is going to know what kind of man Robin Hood is!”

Gisborne did not look as if he appreciated the beauty of the situation. The man was too simple, this had long been clear in the sheriff's mind. Gisborne just wanted to kill Hood. Vaysey wished to destroy him, and not only his life, but also his memory. The outlaw had been a nuisance for so long now, he had to be utterly destroyed. A simple hanging wasn't enough anymore either. If the peasants remembered the man as somebody who had fought on what they believed their side, another man might sooner or later wish to follow Hood's example. Vaysey could not let this happen. The man had to be shown to be the traitor to the law he really was, the people had to see that it was only the authority of the sheriff that could be their blessing, or their doom.

Knowing that this was too complicated for Gisborne to understand, he decided to save his breath and instead go and have a look at the outlaw they had caught. This was something even Gisborne would manage well enough.

* * *

It had been quick and painful. He had been watching the flames feeding on the sacks of grains they had captured earlier, when the men arrived. He had barely had time to listen to the short exchange between the unknown man and Robin, before the guards had followed. Robin's call to flee had come immediately, but Will had not been fast enough. Sharp pain running up his leg, he had more stumbled than run into the forest. When the horse had appeared in front of him, its rider lifting his sword, he had thought it was over, expecting a sudden, painful stab. Instead there was a stunning blow from the side as another man slammed him down to the ground. He was disarmed and being bound before the world had even stopped turning.

The way to Nottingham had been hell. They had made him walk, but it had resulted in more being dragged than walking under his own power. It had come as a relief to be finally thrown in the dungeons cell, to be finally left alone in the dark. He had just lain there at first on the stony ground, his heart beating fast, every beat resounding painfully in his leg.

After a while, he had moved to sit up. He had avoided standing, unwilling to put any strain at all on the hurting limb, instead only dragging it along as he slid over the floor until he came to lean against the wall. He looked down and saw that there was a tear in his leggings as he had expected. It was not very obvious, especially not in the dim light coming into the cell. In a determined action Will reached down and pulled the torn cloth aside. He wasn't sure what he had expected but what he saw was a clear, long but shallow cut that had stopped bleeding by now, a thin layer of scab over it. Along the cut the skin was an angry red and deep bruising was all around it. Will guessed that this was where the pain was coming from.

He wished that Djaq was there with him so she could take a look at it, as she would know what to do. Thinking about it, he realized that he certainly did not want her there. He swallowed, leaning back against the wall behind him. He guessed that the other outlaws had managed to escape, none of them handicapped as he was.

He sat there for hours as it felt to him, closing his eyes for periods at a time, unable to really rest. Thoughts about the other outlaws wandered through his mind, questions about what they were doing, when they would notice his fate, what they would decide to do. He knew he was not important, not like Robin. He had been able to do some useful things for the gang, like building their camp, but in the fight against the sheriff he knew he would be no great loss. Still, there was no doubt in his mind that the gang would come for him. Robin had given up on his title and lands, on his life basically, to save him and others like him. The gang had never hesitated to come for one of their own, and neither would they now. It gave Will hope, but there was also always the knowledge that any rescue attempt could lead them directly to the gallows.

He had no certainty that they would come in time either. It was a painful memory for all of them, when Allan's brother had been hanged as the outlaws had not arrived in time to save him and his companions. The sheriff was cruel and if he wanted someone dead immediately, they would die a quick death. Will remembered bitterly his father being murdered in the course of moments on not much more than a whim of the sheriff, annoyed about the words the man had spoken. If the sheriff wanted him dead, Will knew he had not much longer to live. The only reason for him to be kept alive would be for Robin to come for him. This conclusion was not difficult to make. Will hoped the gang would come for a rescue, the sheriff wished it as well, and Will could not be certain who would win this battle at the end of the day.

Squeaking came from the door and a bright light followed. Will closed his eyes against it for some moments and when he opened them, he saw two figures outside of the cell, dark outlines against the light behind them.

“See, Gisborne,” one of the men said. “We cannot just waste him. Simply hanging him would be boring, a waste of rope actually.”

“We do not need to waste rope, my Lord, my sword will do.”

“No, you do not understand me,” the sheriff's voice sounded through the dungeons. “He will bring us Hood.”

“You will never get Robin,” Will said finally, trying to bring as much confidence into his voice as possible.

“Did you hear anything, Gisborne?” the sheriff mocked. “I thought there was something.” The man chuckled.

“Are we going to kill him then?” the other man asked.

“Hood? Oh, yes, he will die, but not before he has seen, has felt, what the people feel about him. See, Gisborne, Hood wants to be loved. And we are going to show the people's love to him.”

“And the outlaw?”

The sheriff came closer to the bars of the cell. Will was still not able to make out his expression, but knew that Vaysey was observing him. “He will hang, once we have Hood.” The man kept his gaze fixed at Will. “Although...” he paused.

“My Lord?”

“He looks familiar.” The sheriff sounded thoughtful now.

“He is one of Hood's men,” Guy stated, as if the other man needed to be reminded of that fact.

“Yes, yes, Gisborne, but there is something else...”

Will bit his lip, guessing what made the sheriff remember his face. The man had felt what poison could do; it had only been Robin's actions that had saved his life. Robin had forced Will to take them to Djaq who he had locked into a room earlier. Will had felt then that he had no other choice because she carried the antidote for the poison he had given to the sheriff. Will still did not regret what he had done, though he was sorry for endangering the lives of his friends. In any way, it had certainly not kept the sheriff from using the same method himself, as Will thought of the poisoned food.

After several more seconds, the man turned away from the cell and left together with the Master-at-Arms. Will closed his eyes, letting out a breath. The thought to provoke the sheriff had been on his mind. He could have told the man why he felt familiar. He could have reminded him of the fact that he had killed Dan Scarlet. The sheriff would not have cared, but Will would have been able to show the anger that was still with him. Maybe he would have been able to provoke Vaysey enough to kill him here and now.

Will did not want to die. But neither did he want to be a lure for the others, lead them to their deaths. He wanted Robin to come, but knew he could not have this without the sheriff being prepared for it. Robin would be smart enough to expect this though.

Will moved to his feet, carefully placing weight on his leg. It still hurt, but the rest had let the pain fade to an extent. He hobbled to the door of the cell, looking at the lock. He had been able to open doors like this one before, but without any tools it would be impossible even for him.

* * *

The outlaws had not hesitated. Once Djaq had made clear what had likely happened, they had gathered their weapons and had set off for the place where they had last seen Will, the site of the fire they had made.

Robin led them through the forest, his thoughts on all the things that had happened. He wanted to think about the failed attempt to get food for the winter, wanted to think about the situation that had been created by what he assumed to be the sheriff's lackey, but these things were only at the back of his mind. It was Will who was important now. He would be able to take care of the other issues later, once he had his men back together, safe and sound.

The sun was well on its way down to the horizon when they arrived at the scene of the morning's events. The fire had died, it were merely ashes that were left of the grains. The site showed the disturbance of horses and men that had plowed through.

“Alright, let's look around if we can find any traces, anything they might have lost, anything that could tell us if anyone was hurt.”

Robin did not voice it, but everyone knew that he meant they were looking for any signs that Will had been injured, or worse. The man had been hurt before, but had been able to hide it, though it had likely been the reason why he had not gotten away like the other outlaws. They were not able to judge the extent of that injury now. They could only assume that it was not serious enough to cause lasting damage. What had happened on the site they were now though, they had no idea about.

Robin searched through the underbrush around the clearing, Djaq at his side. Her silent demeanor still showed him her worry. Robin was feeling the same way. Walking around bushes and trees, he was afraid of finding a body, though he doubted the guards would simply let any killed outlaw lie to rot there. They would either take him to Nottingham or one of the villages to be presented there, or would string the body up a tree in order to taunt the outlaws should they return. At least this was what Robin assumed, though he wanted to believe that the lack of bodies was a better sign than one pointing at such a scenario.

“Have you seen any blood?” Djaq asked suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He shook his head.

“It is good,” she said quietly. “If we cannot find blood, he has not lost much. If he has not lost much, he can live.”

Robin frowned. “We do not know if he was hurt at all.” He looked at her. “Save for his leg, of course.”

Her expression was serious. “I do not think it was very bad. He was hurting and he had trouble walking. But if the leg had been very bad, if it had bled a lot, he would not have been able to go on so long.”

Robin rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I wish he would have said something.”

“What would we have done?” Djaq retorted. “We still would have needed to store the food. Burn it when we found the poison. Will would not have stayed behind.”

“You would have been able to help, wouldn't you?”

She smiled. “I might have been.” Then she nodded. “And I will be, when we find him.”

Robin nodded, holding his tongue from saying if. Will would be fine; it was still possible he had been able to get away, and was somewhere in the forest, heading back to camp at this very moment. With a breath he nodded, walking back into the clearing then where John, Much and Allan were waiting for the two of them.

"There's nothing here,” Robin said. “Spread out, cover our normal runs. Meet back at camp. If we find nothing, then we will head to Nottingham."

“Do we have time for that?” Allan questioned. “Sheriff can be quick with his hangings if they got him.” The truth of that was clear in all of their minds.

“We have to make sure,” Robin insisted. “We cannot all go to Nottingham and have Will be back at the camp.”

"If they have him, the sheriff will be expecting us," Much pointed out.

"Yes," Robin agreed. "But we cannot leave him."

"It will be a trap," Djaq agreed with Much. “We cannot leave him,” she shook her head, looking at Robin with an expression that made him wonder if she thought he expected her to agree with leaving Will to his fate. “But walking into a trap will not help him.”

"Yes," he nodded once more. "But what other choice do we have? The sheriff will be expecting us in any way. We have to be ready for that, but we have to go to Nottingham, if we do not find Will in the forest."

Djaq nodded quietly, and the outlaws once again split up to follow Robin's plan. He had hoped they would find Will back at the camp. As he had told his men, they had to make sure that he was not there before they would risk their lives sneaking into Nottingham, probably walking right into the sheriff's arms. But at the end of the day, he had feared that it would come to the truth that Will had been captured. It was certainly the reason why he had hurried. Allan had been right as well. If they did not find Will, they would have to march through the night to make it to Nottingham before any hanging could happen, not that the sheriff would particularly care about observing certain hours of the day for killing people.

Robin was the first back at camp. The others arrived one after the other, Allan being the last. All of them looked at him expectantly when he walked into their camp.

He shook his head. “No sign of Will.” Coming to a stop, he pressed his lips together, before continuing. “You're not going to like this.”

“Will?” John asked, but Allan shook his head.

“No, as I said, no sign of him. It's not about him,” he assured them quickly. “It's the peasants.”

“What about them?” Robin frowned, the questions that had drifted to the back of his mind with Will's absence coming back to prey on him.

“They're talking about it everywhere,” Allan pointed with his thumb behind himself in what they knew to be the general direction of Locksley. “They're saying Robin Hood robbed the whole of Nottingham's winter storage and burned it all.”


	4. Out of Time

The forest was dark. Only their torches showed them the way through the underbrush. Robin was leading the little group, Djaq following close behind him, deep in thoughts. She knew that what Allan had reported concerned Robin. He had made it clear that Will was their first priority, but she could imagine that the other issues were eating away at him as well. Allan had told them about the tale that was going around in the villages, and it did not bode well. There would be disappointment, if not resentment on the side of the peasants, if they believed the story. They had no reason to expect the outlaws to act as that tale told them, the outlaws always having tried their best to help. But what the men who had witnessed the burning of the grains reported would create a strong picture in their minds as well.

Robin had not let any discussion even start on this topic back at camp. Djaq knew they would have to do something about it later, if it turned out that Allan was right and that people really believed what they heard. Robin and his men would have a hard time helping them, if they did not have their trust. Djaq wondered what the detail about the food being poisoned would do for the rumors going around. She guessed that it might frighten the people and might make them reluctant to accept any more food from the outlaws if they heard that they had nearly received supplies that could have proved fatal. If they really needed to explain themselves though, they would have to bring up the fact.

For now, saving Will was urgent, anything else had to wait, which was why Robin had avoided any discussion about the matter. They were well on their way to Nottingham now. They would be close to the town long before the sun would rise, and would try and come up with a plan then to sneak in.

Robin stopped suddenly, sure to have heard a sound that was not supposed to be there. Djaq came to a stop as well, Allan bumping into her, cursing.

“Sorry,” he added quickly.

Robin hushed him, listening and Djaq heard Much and John coming to a stop behind them. They stood there, unmoving and silent for a few moments, listening intently, but there was only the wind rustling through the trees and the breathing of the men beside each one of them.

Finally Robin shook his head and moved on. The interruption had brought Djaq's mind fully back to the task at hand. She knew they could not let their thoughts wander to other problems; problems that would maybe not even needed to be dealt with as time went by. Saving Will was what they had to do now. Getting into Nottingham unseen was what needed to be done to do that.

She was sure they would be able to come up with a way to get into the town, they had done so many times before. Of course, as they had discussed earlier, the sheriff would expect them to come for Will. This was actually something they even had to hope for. If the sheriff knew they would come for Will, he had at least a reason to keep Will alive for the time being. Djaq once again felt sorry that she had not addressed the injury with him. She was not sure how much she could have done, as she had not actually seen it, but all of them could have paid more attention, ensuring the injured man was able to flee as well.

They stepped several more times on their march and one of these times Djaq came forward to Robin's side, conscience and doubts about the sheriff's plans on her mind, just as well as question as to Will's current faring.

“How are we going to save Will?” she asked quietly.

“We go in, we get him, we get out,” Robin replied simply, his voice subdued as well.

“This is not much of a plan.”

“Not yet,” he admitted.

She nodded. “I trust you will find a way.”

He gave her a silent nod, before he moved on. She wondered what exactly had happened. They were rather sure now that Will had been caught, but they did not know about the manner. She wondered if he had been hurt even worse than before, knowing that nobody would care for his wounds in the sheriff's dungeons. She wondered if they were torturing him to give them information about Robin, many of the cruelties she knew humans to be capable of wandering through her mind. Finally, she banished these thoughts, trying to focus on their march and on thinking of a way into the castle.

After several hours of walking, they could see the castle of Nottingham rising up in the distance. More precisely, it were small lights that were shining inside the castle walls that they were able to see, the night not yet gone. The gang came to a stop, putting out their torches, so as not to draw any random traveler's attention to their presence. They shared a small meal, not knowing when they would have the next opportunity, the sun appearing over the horizon before they were finished.

“So how are we going to get in?” Allan asked, taking a gulp from his flask.

“Today's market day,” Much suggested, “we could go in with the peasants who'll come to sell their goods.”

“I doubt there are going to be many who have anything left to sell,” Robin said.

“It's not like we have anything either, now do we?” Allan grimaced, showing his empty pockets for emphasis.

“We should have slaughtered the oxen,” Much sighed.

Djaq remembered that Much had brought up that idea again when they had been piling up the grain, getting ready to set a fire to it, but Robin had decided against it, unwilling to stay in that clearing for all too long. They could have taken the oxen and killed them later, but the arrival of the guards had made flight their first priority, the animals being left behind to be taken by the sheriff's men.

“We have nothing to sell,” she agreed. “So we go with the ones who have nothing.”

Robin nodded. “We're going to join the beggars outside of town. We will find a way to slip in from there.”

“Robin,” John spoke up, pointing at the sun that had already made part of its daily way on the sky. “No time.”

“I know,” the archer said, “but we cannot fight our way in. We have to be careful getting in, we're going to raise the alarm once we get to Will anyway. So we're going to have to fight our way out. We can't alert them too soon.”

Nobody spoke against his words and they set off towards the town, Djaq now trailing the others. The closer they came to town walls, the more her thoughts returned to Will. It was one of these times that she wished she knew more, that she had more knowledge about mankind, about his body and soul, about ways to heal. She felt herself to be limited in knowledge, too limited by far. It was at this point she stopped, almost at the top of the elevation close to the town that the gang was just crossing. She opened the small bag she was carrying, checking its contents. She had herbs that lessened pain, herbs that slowed bleeding and such that would make the heart beat strong. She could use all these, but she knew there could be so many cases where none of these would bring any help anymore. She closed the bag and looked up to see the other outlaws some way ahead of her.

She had to join them and do the best she could.

* * *

The sheriff had awakened even before the sun had risen over the horizon. The day's promises were far too good to stay long in bed. With the help of several servants whose working speed had increased with the volume of his voice, he had dressed and broken fast quickly.

Reinvigorated he had then called in the first visitor of the day. The man was the spy he had set to follow the outlaws the last two days and who had stayed in Locksley the previous night, ordered to set off to return to Nottingham early in the day.

“My Lord,” he said with a bow as he entered.

“So,” the Vaysey started, leaning back luxuriously, determined to enjoy, “what are the peasants talking about?”

“There are several stories going around,” the spy reported. “The core of the stories is the same: Robin Hood and his gang of outlaws stole Nottingham's winter storage and then burned it all in the forest.”

The sheriff smiled, the expression slowly evolving into a broad grin. “Now that will show him!”

The other man remained calm. “The stories differ on how much was stolen and whether the outlaws kept some of the food for themselves or destroyed it all.”

“Good, good,” the sheriff clapped his hands, “if they are discussing the details, they won't doubt the basics of it.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Vaysey looked thoughtful. “Are there any... rumors about the... quality of the food?”

The man shook his head only slightly. “No, my Lord. The claim that it was poisoned did not catch on. The peasants saw with their own eyes that the food was given to the fire. They did not see any signs of it being of a fatal quality.”

“Perfect.” He was satisfied. There was still the possibility to blame Hood for it if any rumors about a poison would appear after all, but for now it was good enough to have the villagers believe the outlaws destroyed it out of the darkness in their hearts. Vaysey knew that if you wanted to get to the frogs, you would have to first dry out the lake. Now Gisborne, if he had told him this, would have believed it meant he had to cut down every single tree in the forest. The sheriff knew it was a different kind of water that had to be dried out.

It was the wave of popularity the outlaw enjoyed with the peasants. Once rid of this, the people would have no noble-minded man left to turn to and give them false hopes. They would labor under the conditions the sheriff set, would pay their taxes and otherwise endure their place in life. Hood would be hit by this even more so. Vaysey could not imagine living in the forest year in year out. It had to wear down any man. The only reason Hood could have to still keep going on with it, to still fight against what was the rightful order, was because he believed he was helping the people he wanted to be loved by. He would be utterly destroyed; the sheriff was determined on that.

“What about Nottingham? What did you hear when you came through town?” he further asked his spy.

“The same stories are going around here,” the man answered. “People appear to be angrier here though, as it concerns food that was supposed to be for them.”

The sheriff nodded in quiet enjoyment. This would be useful. “And the men I selected. They are doing their job?“

“Wonderfully so, My Lord. They will be ready to take action later and people will follow their example.“

Ideas formed in the sheriff's mind, promises of more enjoyment on this day and during the ones to come. He almost forgot about the man that was still waiting for further questions or being dismissed. He would have the man stay at the castle for now, or, it actually seemed a better idea to send him back to the villages where he could keep listening in on the stories. Vaysey would be able to deal with the people of Nottingham on his own. He would give them food for many more stories to come.

“You may leave,” he told the spy and the man bowed, before walking out of the door. Vaysey lifted the cup that had so far stood in front of him, untouched. He took a sip, thinking of the other lackey he had ordered to report on a whole different matter. Once this man would come to bring his report, the sheriff would set to work in earnest. This thought reminded him of an unfinished task he had left in the dungeons, as he took another sip. The outlaw would not be needed anymore soon. Another savory sip of wine filled his mouth, the picture of the wretched man on his mind. There was something strange about it. A connection he couldn’t quite make…

The next moment he spat out the wine, dropping the cup with a splatter.

“Guards!” he yelled, as the memory came back to him. He had known the outlaw felt familiar and he had known that it was not only, as Gisborne had presumed, because the man belonged to Hood's gang. He remembered the face now. It was the imbecile bastard who had poisoned him not long ago. He had almost died a way too early, pointless death then. It was Hood who had saved him and the anger still burned inside of him when he thought of it.

Guards were running into the chamber now, looking for a danger to the man who was calling for them.

“Get the outlaw from the dungeons! I want to see him hanging!” Vaysey yelled at them, jumping up from his chair. “No, wait, I am going to drag him to the gallows myself!”

He hurried out of his chamber, guards on his heels. He almost ran down the stairs on the way to the lowest level of the castle. When he burst into the dungeons, the jailer was startled, dropping a sharp object he had been admiring.

“Get me the outlaw,” the sheriff told him, still in rage. The other man scrambled away, Vaysey following behind him to the cell that housed the murderous scum.

“Get him out,” he yelled and the jailer opened the cell quickly, two guards streaming in to drag the prisoner out. The sheriff turned to the other guards standing behind him. “Tell the hangman to get the gallows ready! And fast!”

The outlaw struggled as the men pulled him out of the cell. Vaysey could not be sure in the dim light, but he thought the man looked paler now than before. It did not mute his temper.

“You think you can poison me, the Sheriff of Nottingham?” he charged at the man, who was still struggling and managing one or two hits, before the guards had the sense to bind his hands.

“So you remember,” he said simply, once he had realized that struggle was pointless now.

“I'm going to have you hanged. And drawn! And quartered!”

“You killed my father. Did you expect to not pay for that?” the man retorted in a stubborn voice that still contained something else that Vaysey intensively hoped to be fear.

“Get him to the gallows! Now!”

The guards dragged the outlaw away and the sheriff followed them, thoughts of the upcoming hanging soothing his anger. When they appeared outside, the hangman was still busy hastily preparing the rope. He glanced at the sheriff nervously, and finished his task with a last strong pull to fix the knot of the noose. He then prepared the small stool they would place the outlaw on, while the guards dragged the man forward, who had started struggling again on seeing the noose.

“You thought there was time for Hood to come and save you, didn't you?” Vaysey mocked. “You took that away from yourself with your own actions. I might have let you live long enough to die together with the whole lot of you, but as things are, you are not going to live to see them joining the entertainment!”

The guards pushed the man forward to where the hangman was waiting. Vaysey thought it somewhat of a pity that he hadn't had time to round up more of an audience for the hanging. The people of Nottingham surely would have enjoyed watching the execution of one of the outlaws about whose deeds they had recently heard so much. But the sheriff was not ready to let the man live longer than needed to put that noose around his neck.

Another man, lean and quick, hurried up to him. He stopped several feet away, bowing. “My Lord,” he said breathlessly.

The sheriff turned away from the outlaw, frowning at the other man until he recognized him. “What is it?”

“They are there,” the man said quickly. “Hood and his men. They walked right into our trap.”

“Marvelous,” the sheriff clapped his hands. “Have you all heard?” he called loudly. “Hood is caught! Hood and his entire gang of outlaws!” He paused briefly to pinch himself, making sure it was not a dream. This day was just getting better and better, well, save for the scum that was waiting to be executed.

He turned back to the outlaw who had now set on what he seemed to believe was an expressionless face, but Vaysey knew the signs of fear of the wretched souls who were about to be killed. “You have heard it,” he told the man with glee. “Your outlaw-friends are going to join you soon!” He smirked, turning back to the messenger who had brought him the news about Hood. “Get me my horse!” Then he looked at the hangman. “Proceed with the hanging,” he said with mock solemnity.

While he was waiting for his horse to be brought to him, he watched the outlaw being positioned on the stool that the hangman would push away later to let the man drop to be strangled. Then a guard arrived with his horse and the sheriff mounted it with a satisfied smile. “Do not wait for me,” he told the hangman. “I am going to greet our next guests who will require your services.”

Vaysey drove his horse, riding out of the castle yard. Elevated, he glanced back to the gallows one last time to see the hangman pull the hood over the condemned man's head. Then the sheriff hurried his horse, off to welcome the others, and of course, give them the news that they were all too late to save their friend, which would provide an even better picture to be enjoyed.


	5. Outlaws

The last thing that Will saw was the sheriff riding away, off to see where Robin and the gang had been caught. Then everything went dark as the hood was pulled over his head and he drew in a panicked gasp of air, his breaths quickening. It was as though he wanted to get in as much air as he could as long as it was possible. Adrenaline was running through him, his heart beating quickly, his thoughts on both the looming event and on the sheriff riding gleefully away so that he could finish off the rest of the gang.

In one defiant moment, Will reached up with bound hands in an act of desperation, tearing the hood off his head. Turning around he threw it at the perplexed hangman. The motion made him lose his balance and he fell from the stool he had been standing on, the hangman who had not long been put off by the turn of events grabbing for him, but missing, as Will rolled off the platform that held the gallows. Glad the noose had not yet been around his neck when he fell, he jumped to his feet, the rush of the moment dampening any pain he might have felt in his injured leg.

He turned and saw himself opposite a wall of guards that blocked any way to leave the castle yard and to get out into the town. His bound hands would not make fighting any easier either. In the decision of a moment he turned and ran up the stairs of the castle entrance, darting inside, shouts and mocks of the guards following him, joking about his stupidity of walking right into the sheriff's stronghold.

Will knew that he had no other choice. He hurried along corridors, turned around many corners, hastened up stairs and kept running even as his leg started reminding him that he should not. He still heard shouts and armor rattling behind him. He a was up another corridor, pain shooting up from his lower leg that almost made him buckle, when he was grabbed out of nowhere.

He was pulled around another corner and then pushed into a room before he could even protest, the door closing behind him and the woman a moment later.

“Marian,” he exclaimed, but she put a finger to her lips, and he fell silent. She laid her ear against the door of the room and listened intently. After some moments, she shook her head and turned to him, pulling a dagger from a place of her body he had previously not known a woman could hide a dagger. He frowned in confusion as she came up to him with a matter-of-fact expression, setting to work and freeing his hands in the course of seconds.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Never mind,” she replied with a brief smile, before turning serious. “What is going on?” She looked down and saw his torn leggings that were barely hiding the wound now. “You're hurt.”

“Yeah, it happened during the ambush. The food delivery you told Robin about.”

He saw the concern in her eyes. “It needs to be cleaned.” She was already moving towards a chest, pulling out a white cloth quickly, and Will realized then that they were in her own chamber.

He nodded, almost shrugging. “I thought I'd have Djaq check it out, but that was before they caught me.”

Her face showed worry when she made him sit down. He looked down at the wound and saw it only now clearly in the light of the room.

“It's not very deep,” Marian said.

“No, it's not,” Will confirmed, not mentioning that the pain was bad anyway as she went to clean it.

“You’re lucky. Most of it is bruising. There isn’t much we can do about it now. The wound has closed, I’ll wrap it, it’ll help keep it from opening again.”

Will nodded and Marian set to work to cover the injury as well as she could. He flinched a few times, guessing that it told her how much his leg was actually hurting.

“Sorry.”

“It's alright; at least it's covered now.” He wondered what Djaq would have done. Marian seemed to to know well enough, but he knew the Saracen would have been able to do something about the pain. But then Will knew he had no reason to complain. If things had gone according to the sheriff's plan, he would either feel nothing at all anymore, or would be wishing it were so, having fallen victim to Vaysey's cruel ideas.

“Tell me what happened, please,” Marian went on then. “What's with Robin? The others? What happened with the food? I heard stories...”

Will's short elevation of having escaped the noose for now was at this moment instantly replaced by a cold feeling inside of him, as the words of the sheriff came back to his mind. The gang had been caught. The sheriff was riding out to get to them.

He felt the failure of not having stopped what he knew would happen. He had known Robin and the gang would come for him. The sheriff had known as well. The gang had walked right into the trap everyone had known about, but as was very clear to Will, they would have thought they had no other choice but to come. They would never have left him to his fate.

“The sheriff has got them,” he said.

“Are you certain?”

“No,” he answered slowly. “But the sheriff's man said they had walked into a trap.”

“Then maybe we're not too late yet. Wait here,” Marian told him, moving towards the door. “There are still guards rushing about; if you hear someone come, hide yourself.”

Will grimaced as she left, wondering where she was going. For now he didn't have any other choice but to stay in the room. The whole castle would be on high alert as to his escape and as he was not up to much running, not to mention that even showing his face outside would prove disastrous. There was still the longing though to try and get away, hoping he could still warn Robin and the gang.

The events of the last hour had taken him by surprise. Morning had come, Will had been aware of that, but he had not expected that the hanging would take place that early. While he had not been sure the day before that Robin would come in time, he had wanted to believe it. This belief had manifested itself in conviction, and confidence in the gang, as the night went by.

He remembered the time before he and his brother were supposed to hang. There had been no such confidence then. None of them would have dared to believe that any man would obstruct the sheriff's orders to save their lives, not even Robin, no matter what hopes had been connected with his return from the war.

The situation had changed. When morning had come, Will had been certain that the gang would arrive any moment, that they would trick the guards and would have him out of his predicament even before the sheriff has risen from his bed. But when uproar had broken out in the dungeons, it hadn't been the outlaws; it had been an outraged sheriff who wanted to see to Will hanging immediately. Will had struggled against being brought out, a fearful realization coming up in him that Robin would be too late.

Will stood then, walked to the door of Marian's chamber, and listened. The corridor appeared to be quiet. He was tempted to use the opportunity and leave despite Marian’s warning. But he could not know how far he would be able to come before he met any guards. He was without any weapons that could help him defending himself. His own small-ax was long gone, and Marian had taken her dagger with her when she left. Will was quite certain she had other weapons hidden in her room, but he doubted he would find them any time soon.

He stepped away from the door, moving to the window instead that overlooked the castle yard. He peered outside, careful to remain unseen from below. The yard lay quiet now, some guards still standing near the ready gallows. Will swallowed. It had been too close. He could only pray he would not get to see up close again what had been prepared for him.

He turned from the window, leaning against the stone wall with a sigh. The sheriff was not back yet, as far as he could tell. Wondering where the gang was, he hoped that the sheriff's messenger had lied, that the outlaws had maybe only been sighted, not captured, and that the sheriff could still fail in his attempt.

Then the door opened and Will was almost about to scramble under the bed, when he heard her voice.

“It's me.”

She slipped inside and closed the door quietly. She was carrying a bundle of what Will quickly recognized to be a guard's uniform and a helmet.

“Take this,” she said, handing him the bundle. “We need to get you out of the castle.”

Will nodded, pulling on the chain mail.

“Maybe we're not too late yet,” she added, and he knew she wasn't talking about him now.

He pressed his lips together as he continued dressing, unwilling to voice his fears and find them confirmed by her reasoning.

“And if we are, we're going to get them out,” Marian told him firmly, as he put on the helmet as the last touch of the outfit.

He nodded. He had gotten away with the noose almost around his neck; the gang would get away too, if they had indeed been caught. They could not let the sheriff win.

“We're going to the market,” Marian explained. “Guy doesn't mind me leaving the castle as long as I have a guard with me.” She walked over to the chest she had taken out the cloth earlier and retrieved a cloak. Putting it around her, she went on, “You can leave town then. I'm going to follow as soon as I find an excuse for me to leave as well.”

“Alright,” Will agreed lamely, his mind racing as to where he was supposed to head. He had no idea where the sheriff's trap waited for the outlaws. If they had been caught they would surely be brought to Nottingham, so maybe it was better for him to stay there until he had news about the situation. If they were really taken to the town, he would only be able to help them, if he was there as well. Leaving and later finding a way back in would prove much more difficult, especially under the circumstances of just having escaped the hangman's noose so closely.

“We have to head out,” Marian decided. “Maybe you can find them, warn them-”

There were shouts outside, screaming and banging, coming from the castle yard. Will bolted to the window, Marian coming up beside him, both of them looking down at what was happening in the distance, the yells becoming louder and louder.

Will froze at what he saw.

“We're too late,” Marian spoke out what he was unable to say.

* * *

They were not far from the gates of Nottingham when Robin noticed that something was wrong. The number of the beggars beside the city walls seemed to have grown immensely. It wouldn't have surprised Robin in itself, times being hard and the sheriff's rule ensuring even more so that more people had trouble managing their livelihood, despite all the outlaws' efforts. But as he looked closer to beggars seemed to be too well-nourished for them to be what they wanted to appear to be.

As this realization hit Robin, he stopped dead, turned on the spot and called, “It's a trap! Fall back!”

“What?” Allan exclaimed. “How can they know we're coming? That it's us?”

“No time.” Robin charged ahead, pulling the other man with him, Much and John turning to run as well.

An arrow shot past in front of him, missing him by inches. Another one flew by a hair's breadth over his head, and Robin dropped flat to the ground, before pulling his bow from his back and readying one of his own arrows. He turned to see where the arrows had come from and saw a group of guards riding up to them, several of them carrying bows, who must have been waiting for the outlaws. Robin released his arrow, and another one, two guards falling as a result, but with a glance to the side Robin saw that many of those who had seemed to be beggars were emerging from the miserable quarter next to the town walls. They wore pitiful clothing, but carried weapons no beggar would ever own.

Robin kept releasing his arrows, but then the targets became too many. He saw that Allan and Much were showing signs of surrendering, only John still grimly dedicated to keep going on. Archers were directing arrows at every one of the men. Robin let his own bow sink.

“John,” he called. He didn't say more, the tone of his voice enough to convince the older man that even Robin saw no point in continuing the fight. He did not want to surrender, but if they all died out here, no one would be left to save Will, it was a simple as that. As long as they stayed alive, there was still hope.

He turned to look at the men who had surrounded them. At first he didn't recognize any of them, but then he saw a familiar face trailing the guards on horseback. Gisborne was smirking as he was riding to the front.

“Hood,” he said simply.

“Gisborne,” Robin rolled his eyes.

“I can assure you that I'd kill you here and now,” the other man told him, “But we are waiting for the sheriff.” The last part was said with a hint of annoyance in Gisborne's face that told Robin that he was not agreeing personally with any delays.

“Always the sheriff's boy, aren't you, Gisborne?” Robin glanced at his men, noticing only now that Djaq was not with them. He hoped it meant she had managed to escape, prayed that nothing worse had happened to her. He couldn't remember seeing her with the other men when the fight started, causing him slight wonder as to her whereabouts.

A man on a white horse came riding over the bridge in front of the town as they were speaking.

“Put down your bow,” Gisborne told him, as the sheriff was approaching them. Reluctantly, Robin put the weapon to the ground. “Your quiver, too,” the Master-At-Arms added.

Without his bow and arrows Robin's feeling of vulnerability was complete. The sheriff's horse came to a hold in front of him.

“Welcome,” the man smirked.

“What do you want?” Robin asked coldly, though he knew the man was not there to negotiate and neither was the gang in any position for it.

“I wanted to take that difficult task of having to slip into Nottingham from you,” Vaysey smiled. “Why wait till you are inside? We can just as well greet you here.”

“What is it you want?”

“Oh,” the sheriff's face was a grimace, “I thought it was you who wants something, or someone, don't you?”

Robin knew there was no point in asking after Will, the sheriff only waiting for an opportunity to torment him.

The man gestured with his arm grandly towards Nottingham. “Now, after you, if you please.”

Robin stood nailed to the spot, until a guard lifted his sword and pointed it at his chest. He moved into the direction the sheriff had shown reluctantly, knowing his men were to follow him.

“The people are waiting,” the Vaysey added merrily and Robin remembered the tale Allan had heard about and wondered what had arrived of it in Nottingham, and whether the sheriff knew about it. He surely did as it was his spy that had set up the scene that had started the story. Robin's mind raced as he thought of the sheriff's plan that became clearer in his mind now.

They walked over the bridge that led into Nottingham, guards always close at their sides. Robin shared looks with the other three outlaws, but didn't dare asking after Djaq, unwilling to betray to the sheriff that he was missing one outlaw.

“Make way for the sheriff and the prisoners,” he heard Gisborne calling, who was riding ahead. People were hurrying out of his way, guards shoving those aside who were not quick enough. Robin and his men followed.

He was not sure what he had expected. When he had been captured before, there had been some uproar in the town, but it was nothing compared to what began now.

Before it had been shouts of disbelief. Now they were shouts of anger. And not at the Sheriff as would normally be expected.

Instead they were directed at them. Cold and callous remarks, full of vehemence. They wore expressions that were indescribable, ranging from shock and disbelief clear to pure hatred. It wasn’t until they were further into the market that Robin was finally able to understand the words that were being called.

“Give us our food back!”

“Filthy outlaws! Eat like kings while they make us starve!”

Robin came to a stop, looking around aghast and could only barely dodge a stone that was thrown at him. The guards closed around the outlaws, keeping the people from trying to do any further harm. It was a shame to say that he was grateful for the protection just then. It would not last long, he knew. Once they arrived to their destination, all Hell would break loose.

“Burn them like they burned our food!”

“My children are starving because of him!”

Someone bumped into Robin and he moved on. The yells followed them through town and Robin knew what the sheriff had done. He would not have believed that the sheriff would manage so easily to turn the town's people against them. They had once believed him to be a killer, and that had been by nothing but pure lies. Now this incident had been seen by some peasants, and no excuse Robin could come up with now could persuade them otherwise.

Allan had told them about the angry tales that were being told in the villages, but that was nothing compared to what was going on here in Nottingham. He didn't know what exactly was being told, but he could not imagine that it was solely the report of the food delivery being destroyed that riled up the people. A feeling of numbness came over him as these thoughts mixed with the images he was seeing, the shouts he was hearing.

Then someone touched his shoulder and Robin looked to see John shaking his head and motioning him to keep moving. He hadn't even noticed he had stopped walking again.

“What has he told them?” he asked weakly, making one step after the next. They were lies, they were all lies. But then he knew that the sheriff had used a well-founded basis for his story. As set up as the situation had been, the peasants didn't know the food had been poisoned. They were hungry and desperate, knowing they would be starving in the winter without the supplies. Robin still believed that the food would have never reached their tables, but in the people's mind he had taken away their means of survival.

He remembered what Allan had said; according to the tales they had destroyed more than three cartloads of grain; it was said the whole of Nottingham's winter storage was gone. That the outlaws themselves had snuck in, stolen what little goods were left for themselves. Robin suspected that the storage had never been filled in the first place, but for the people it didn't matter if it had been empty before or if it was empty now after the outlaws had stolen and burned heaps of supplies.

They reached the castle yard and the shouts were dampened behind them, the thoughts of what was being called shoved to the back of Robin's mind when he saw the ready gallows towering over the yard.

“I see the other outlaw has already left the party,” the sheriff called. “Too bad. I still wanted to have some fun with him.”

Robin looked at first at Vaysey, then at the empty gallows. He could have said something, anything, but did not feel like offering the man any further opportunities to taunt him, and neither was he sure he actually cared for any explanation.

“Yes, we already celebrated our first hanging this morning,” the man told him with a smile. “Your outlaw-friend who dared to go and poison me,” the sheriff's voice rose in rage, “volunteered to be the first to go. My hangman has done a quick job, as you can see the gallows are already ready for the next of you lot!”

Robin gritted his teeth in anger, bitter grief for Will letting him forget the rage of the people in Nottingham for the moment. What did they matter, when he had just lost one of his own? He saw the smirk of the sheriff, the swinging of the empty noose in the cold win that was blowing over the castle yard, the shouts of betrayal still ringing in his ears. He stood fixed to the ground, weighing the chances of fighting weaponless and with guards all around them.

“Move along,” a guard then told him, pointing towards the castle entrance that would lead them to the dungeons. It wasn’t until he felt the steel of a sword come to rest against his back that he knew he could not fight here. Robin obeyed then, figuring that if the sheriff did not hang them here and now, not all hope was lost. But he couldn’t help but wonder if Will had thought the same, when he had been brought in there before.


	6. Facing the Storm

"We're too late." Marian wasn't quite sure if she was telling this more to herself or to Will, who stood next to her, staring as she was at the proceedings down in the streets of the town. There were many guards and yet more town's people around them, and in the middle of it all, there was the gang of outlaws, Robin ahead, being led through the town. She saw Gisborne riding before them all, the sheriff following on his horse after the group.

Marian pulled Will away from the window, careful that they were not seen from outside. She knew that nobody would care about her watching the ongoings. If she was seen with an outlaw though, the consequences would be fatal. Even with Will wearing the guard's uniform now and nobody suspecting who he really was, questions might be asked as to his whereabouts inside her room. It was better to be safe than sorry in that matter and Marian took care to ensure he was out of sight of any onlookers.

There was uproar among the people in the streets and many shouts could be heard from among them, but she could not understand what was being called from her position high up in the castle.

"What is going on?" she asked aloud, as the outlaws were moved along and the people kept yelling.

"I don't know."

"They're angry," she noted. "The people, they're angry."

"Because the sheriff caught Robin," Will explained matter-of-factly.

"No, it's something else. Something feels wrong..."

The procecession drew nearer, entering the castle yard and leaving the people of Nottingham and their yells behind. Marian's gaze fixed on Robin. He seemed exhausted, worn actually. If Will, as he said, had been caught the previous morning, the gang had probably been looking for him since then and it was no surprise they were tired. With a pang she realized though that there was more to it; there was also an air of dejectedness in his posture. She wasn't used to seeing this. When things went wrong, Robin usually showed anger, anger that had led him to rash actions, getting him into endless trouble. Now he had been caught again, and almost his whole gang with him, but it wasn't anger she was seeing in him.

"I knew this would happen one day," she whispered to herself. She shook her head, rubbing her forehead, as she watched, feeling helpless.

"Where's Djaq?" Will asked suddenly, and Marian noticed that the Saracen was not with the other outlaws. There was Robin, along with John, Much and Allan, but Djaq was nowhere to be seen.

"I don't know," she answered carefully. "Maybe she got away." They had actually no way of knowing what had happened, but there was no other answer she could give the outlaw next to her either.

"I'm sure she did." Will's words were more hopeful than the tone of his voice.

Down on the castle yard Robin looked up at the gallows. Marian saw that the noose that had been prepared for Will was still ready there. She bit her lip, fearful of what was to happen, knowing there was little she could do at this moment. They could then hear the sheriff taunt Robin about having hanged Will in the morning, could see the glee that went with the mocking. Marian glanced at Will. There was anger in his eyes and she hoped he would not betray his presence to the men below. She would understand it if he wanted to tell Robin that the sheriff was lying, but it would improve neither his nor her situation. Guards would be in her chamber within moments, taking them both to the dungeons, or directly to the gallows below.

Robin stood nailed to the spot now and Marian believed to see fury in his expression, too. It was better than the downcast one she had witnessed before, but she feared what he would do, feared he would give the sheriff a reason to end it here and now. Vaysey would kill Robin eventually, but as she knew the cruelty of the man, she was sure he would not let him die so easily. He would prolong it, enjoy it. She didn't want Robin to suffer through this, but she knew that he would hold on, and as long as he would, she still would have a chance to save him, a chance she was determined to take.

When Robin finally moved, the outlaws were led down into the dungeons and out of Will's and Marian's sight.

* * *

They had put him in a separate cell. Despite the dim light, he could make out the faces of John, Much and Allan in the adjoining one. This part of the dungeons was empty save for the outlaws and Robin could imagine that the sheriff would be quick to vacate it again.

Robin looked at his men. Since the dungeons door had closed they were apparently waiting for his direction. Much had complained briefly about the situation, about the sheriff and about the town's people in particular, but had fallen silent quickly on John's grim expression.

Robin wondered what their thoughts were on the sheriff's claim that Will was dead. On the one hand he knew that the man liked to play cruel games and would do anything to get back at Robin by telling him vicious lies. On the other hand, it was very well possible that he had Will ordered to be hanged as he had told them. But there still was no body. Surely the sheriff would have let the man hang there for all of them to see. Whether truth or lie, Vaysey knew that the claim would hit them hard. It had been a shock for them to learn of the execution of Allan's brother and his companions, but the sheriff could very well suspect that Will's death would be a much greater loss for the gang.

Robin was glad that at least Djaq seemed to have escaped capture, if he correctly interpreted her absence. He didn't know what she would be able to do. She was very capable for sure, but at the end of the day she was only one person. She wouldn't be able to fight her way into the castle. Maybe her resourcefulness would help her. And if it did not, if it was too late for all of them, then it would hopefully enable her to start a new life somewhere, probably finally heading back to her native lands.

He realized that he was thinking in too final terms. It wasn't the first time the gang was in a dire situation; not all was lost quite yet. He figured that it was Will's loss that was weighing on his mind, made him think in these ways that promised no future for the gang.

He moved closer to the bars that separated him from his men and leaned against them, looking at the others.

"Do you think Djaq can get us out?" Allan asked him, it apparently being a matter of fact for him that the Saracen had indeed managed to flee.

"Surely she cannot save us all on her own!" Much answered the question in Robin's stead.

"Well, there's not many other people left," Allan shrugged, but looked uncomfortably at Robin then.

"Robin can get us out," Much declared decidely, nodding.

"If you haven't noticed, Robin's right here with us. Can't do much to get us out, or can he?" Allan shook his head.

"There is going to be a way," Robin emphasized, but knew that it was only stubborness that made him say it. His own earlier thoughts had betrayed that he didn't really believe in his statement.

"Will," John said simply.

Robin nodded. "Will...and Djaq."

"I don't want to be a naysayer," Allan assured them, "but we don't even know that Will hasn't been hanged."

"We don't know that," Robin confirmed. "But we cannot trust the sheriff's words."

"This is... this is..." Much shook his head. "We don't know if Will is alive, we don't know where Djaq is, Robin is trapped here with us..."

"We are going to get out of here," Robin tried again for optimism, a sentiment he didn't feel, especially when he thought of the earlier scenes in town. Toning down his voice, he added, "Maybe Marian can help us. She has got me out of here before."

The other outlaws didn't reply, but Robin could read in their faces that they were not so sure about Marian's ability in this situation.

"So what are we going to do?" Much wanted to know, but nobody got the chance to answer as the dungeons's door was opened. Several guards streamed inside and the jailer followed, an expectant expression on his face.

He pointed at Robin. "Take him."

The guards followed the order, opening the door to Robin's cell.

"Wait! What are you doing?" Much cried.

The jailer turned to the man, looking as if he had only now noticed the presence of the other outlaws. "He is going to provide some entertainment for the sheriff outside." He turned back to Robin, as the guards dragged the man out of the cell.

Robin struggled against the men, hearing Much yelling at them. "No, no, you can't do this!" The outlaw shook the bars of the cell, trying to break them. As they hauled him away, Robin caught a last look at Much's horrified face. "Robin!" The man's yells followed him outside.

The guards brought Robin out into the blazing sun of the chilly autumn day. He hadn't expected this to happen quite as fast. But the sheriff had learned. He would not wait and see if Robin and the gang's discussions about possibilities of escape would prove true. Robin figured there would be little protest from the people of Nottingham either.

The sheriff's men dragged the archer forward and he could see that Vaysey was waiting on the steps of the castle, Gisborne next to him. The gallows were ready and as Robin stared at them, he could only hope that John, Much and Allan would not follow his fate quickly. Maybe Djaq and Will would have a chance to save them. Unless Will was actually dead, executed in a just as speedy manner as Robin was now.

The guards placed Robin several steps down in front of the sheriff whose expression told of this being one of the best days of his life. Town's folk had collected in the castle yard and Robin could almost feel their stares at his back, remembering the earlier outrage he had met when he and his men had been led into the town. He doubted their anger had lifted. The sheriff's lies would still be strong in their minds, their hate at what they believed his gang to have done not tempered. He could almost understand the feelings. If the sheriff's stories were true, they would have every right to despise him.

Robin glanced up at the castle's walls to see who else was watching the execution. Marian was nowhere to be seen. While he would have liked to see her once more, he didn't want her to witness his death either, so he was glad she was not there. He worried what was to become of her though, once he was dead.

"This is the man," the sheriff's voice called Robin back to the present, "who led the gang of outlaws who viciously robbed your supplies. Food that I, the Sheriff of Nottingham, had ordered, paying with your tax money, to keep us fed for the coming winter. But not only that!" the man continued loudly over the people's outraged yells. "He and his gang did not just take the food for themselves, no, they also chose to destroy the supplies they did not need."

The crowd kept shouting and Robin wondered for the first time whether there were any agitators the sheriff had placed in it. It would fit the man's game. Maybe the people were angry enough on their own though, Robin thought bitterly.

"They burned the food!" the sheriff told them. "They burned it, destroyed it, so that you, the people of Nottingham, would not get any of it! It is you who will suffer this coming winter because the stocks are empty!"

The sheriff paused and let the people's shouts fill the void. He signaled his guards and they grabbed Robin even tighter than before, pulling him down the steps.

"But I am going to show you how we deal with men like him, men who make the people suffer so he can come along and pretend to help them, wanting to gain power over them!" Vaysey continued and it was at this that Robin once again struggled against the guards, yelling at the people at the same time.

"These are lies!" he shouted, but was punched in the stomach at the same moment. "The sheriff had the food poisoned," he added as loudly as he could manage after he had caught his breath, only to be silenced again.

"Poisoned? They poisoned the food?" the sheriff said in a pretendenly surprised manner. "Did you hear that? He just confessed that they had planned to poison the food!"

The shouts of the people seemed to become even angrier, if that was even possible. The guards dragged Robin on, but he wasn't led to the gallows. They were pulling him towards a large post that had been fixed at the castle yard. Over the yelling of the people they pushed Robin against it and pulled his arms around in front of him, binding them firmly behind the post.

Robin now realized what the sheriff was doing and stared in shock at the angry mob in front of him. The guards stepped away and Robin tried to struggle against the rope that held him. The men placed themselves a few feet away from him, watching the crowd as well as the outlaw.

Something nasty hit Robin even before the sheriff picked up his speech again.

"This is the man who stole the food supplies, who destroyed them, who is the reason the people of Nottingham will starve during the winter! This is the man who opposed the law, claiming to do this for you!" More refuse was thrown at the outlaw, as Vaysey paused, and Robin tried ducking it as best as could with the limited movement that was possible. "I am going to leave him here, to face you for the crimes he committed against you," the sheriff explained further. "But don't forget," the man added in a mocking voice, "He needs to stay alive for the time being, so he can face true justice later on."

Robin wasn't sure if the people had even heard the last part, as their shouts had risen in volume once again. He turned his head to look behind himself and saw the sheriff leaving and entering the castle with energetic strides. The guards remained at Robin's side. When he turned back to face the crowd again, something wet and mushy hit him, sticking to his skin before falling off with a plop. What it was he wasn't sure, and that was probably a blessing in disguise. He tried once again to duck the next.

He was surprised the people hadn't charged at him yet, but guessed that it were the guards who kept them from doing as much. They kept throwing and yelling though, and Robin now started to make out words they were using against him. Trying to tune it out again, he tried to focus on dodging the foul things coming for him.

It went on and on. Robin was soon tired, his whole budy hurting, both from the frequent hits the crowd made as well as the strain from being bound to the post but moving around to duck. At some point Robin simply stopped, hoping the crowd would do the same when they saw that he wasn't trying to avoid it anymore. He closed his eyes and it kept raining down on him, and he told himself that he had faced worse, much worse.

The sheriff had manipulated the people. Some of the ones who were casting foul eggs now were maybe even sheriff's men. The people didn't hate him. They hated what they believed he had done. Robin kept telling himself that over and over and finally the crowd seemed to become quieter and no more objects were coming at him.

Robin opened his eyes, realizing only now that there were some tears in them. He wasn't sure if they came from the pain of his body or the hurt inside. He knew he should feel ashamed if he wasn't even able to stand that little, that which was nothing compared to how other people had fared on the sheriff's hands. Maybe he wished that the man simply had him hanged. He knew Vaysey would do so later on, but not before he had shown Robin how low he had sunk in the people's eyes.

As the day moved on, Robin thoughts went to his his men who were still down in the dungeons and probably believed him to be dead by now. He thought of Marian who he hadn't seen earlier but who would surely get to see the scene at some point. She had often called him a fool. Now she would see how right she had been.

Robin was thinking of her, when the day was coming to a close. A small boy was moving towards him then and Robin wondered wearily if the guards would keep him away. He doubted the boy was of any danger to him. The guards didn't move though and the boy stepped close to Robin, looking at him curiously. He crouched down then and looked at Robin's feet.

"Hello there," Robin said tiredly. His voice was dry. He was thirsty beyond measure, but knew he wouldn't get anything to drink anytime soon. He could not even be sure he would get anything ever again. The sheriff would surely not offer him anything, and neither would the people of Nottingham who believed after all that he was reponsible for the hunger that was to come in the winter.

The boy didn't answer, but instead moved to touch Robin's shoes. The next moment he pulled, trying to remove them, holding tightly to one. Robin was surprised and didn't know what to say. He had made the shoes himself and they were probably better than most the boy had ever seen. "Take them," he said then, his voice even hoarser than before.

The boy stood up, but before he left, he spat at Robin, who was painfully reminded of the day he had saved Will, Allan, Luke and Benedic from being hanged to death at the same place he was at now. People had then spat at him because they believed him to be the man behind the executions. Now they were shaming him for a whole different matter, a matter as little true though as all that time ago. Now there was no action he could take, no rescues he could do, no arrows he could shoot. He could only take and bear what was coming. And soon, the sheriff would end it.


	7. Debates

Djaq had been torn. Every instinct inside of her had urged her to jump into the fight the gang was losing outside of Nottingham. Her reasoning had told her differently. It had told her in calm words that the men who were battling there, who had lain ready in wait to trap the outlaws, had not noticed her. She had trailed behind the rest of the gang and in the confusion of the battlefield they had missed the small woman.

So she had ducked out of sight, her mind telling her that she needed to get away, so she could come back for another fight, a fight they might be able to win. She had listened to reason, although her emotions were punishing her for it, giving her a feeling of having abandoned the gang. The only way she would get rid of this feeling would be to go after them and help them.

But she knew that she had to bide her time. It wasn’t long before the outlaws surrendered and were taken into the town. She waited till all of the guards had left, waited even after that had happened. After a long while, she pulled her hood over her head and walked on. She was not certain how she planned to get into the town, but she hoped that the guards would not pay attention to her, as they had not paid attention earlier.

Djaq felt the pressure on herself. The gang had been on the way to save Will. Now she was on the way to save the gang. She was alone, the only one left and she prayed Will was still there to be saved, too. She knew she could not fight her way into the dungeons. She could handle a bow well enough, but she would not be able to rescue the outlaws from the gallows as Robin could. But then she also realized that she could do things Robin couldn't. While he might use a sword or bow and arrows, she had other ways. She only had to think it through, then she would be able to help the men.

As she slowly walked over the drawbridge, she thought back to the big cities of her own lands. The English towns were backward compared to those back home. It seemed almost an absurd thought, at least it certainly would have been considered so at home, that she was now trying to sneak into such an English town on a cold autumn day to save a bunch of English outlaws. She smiled sorrowfully, keeping her head down to hide her expression from the guards that stood at the gate to Nottingham.

She had almost passed the gate when it happened.

“Stop,” one of the guards called. “Where are you going?”

She stopped dead in her tracks, but did not answer the question. She knew anyone would realize she was not from here as soon as she opened her mouth. So she kept it closed, and started gesturing with her hands instead. She pointed at her head, at her mouth, trying to communicate that she could not talk. Finally it seemed to work.

“I think he's dumb, Harry.”

“Looks that way, doesn't it,” the other man agreed. “Are you going to the market?” he asked Djaq.

She stared only ahead, unwilling to look directly at him. “You!” he called very loudly. “Market?” he pointed into the direction of the place.

Djaq nodded.

“Alright. Get going,” the guard shrugged and when Djaq didn't react although she felt like running, he rolled his eyes and pointed at first at her and then at the market place.

She nodded again and hurried to get away. When she was well out of sight of the guards, she let out a sigh of relief. What she had done would have never worked with the whole gang of outlaws. The man had only paid attention to the fact that she seemed to not be able to hear or speak, but they had not even looked at her closely enough to notice that she was a woman.

She moved through the town, evading bumping into people doing their daily business. The sounds of work and of talking filled her ears. It was all just a drown of words at first, but then she picked out meanings of a conversation two men were leading next to her, waiting at a well to be the next to fill their buckets. It was the mentioning of outlaws, then of Robin that caught her attention and she stopped, pretending to wait at the well, too.

“Serves him right, I say,” one of the men said.

“I'm not sure. He did a lot of good. He helped.” The other man shook his head.

“All of the winter storage is gone, you know what that means?”

“Who says it's all gone?”

“People say it. They saw the outlaws. They burned it all.”

“They don't burn food. They give food to the poor.”

“It's as I told you,” the man pressed his lips together to a thin line.

“Now what the sheriff's telling-”

“It's not just the sheriff saying so. It's the people. I don't believe all the sheriff's saying, no, I don't. But you've got to trust what your fellow man says.”

“I still think Robin has done a lot of good. He's saved all those lads from hanging, way back.”

The other man grimaced. “Well, this won't work well now, will it?”

“I still think it isn't right.”

“It's the law.”

There was silence for a moment before the other man spoke again. “Law says they will hang the outlaws.”

The other man nodded. “I heard they strung up one of them this morning. Now that they've got the rest of them, they are going to hang, too.”

“Even Robin.”

“Well, the sheriff isn't quite through with him yet, and neither are the people I'd say. It had to come to this one day, was clear as the sun. But if they really stole and burned all the food,“ he shook his head. “How many people will die this winter? I'm not going to shed a tear for them. Maybe it's better they're all gone.“

The other man did not reply again, and soon afterwards it was his turn to fill his bucket at the well. Djaq moved out of the way as more people lined up after her to stand there and wait for their turns.

She hoped she had misunderstood the man. Her ears wanted to make her believe they had said that an outlaw had been hung this morning. She figured she probably didn't know the language as well as she had thought, for it was not possible that they had hung Will Scarlet even before Robin and the gang had reached Nottingham. If they had killed Will, and would kill the others later, there was no one there anymore for her to help. There would be no point in her being there. So this could not be right. She had surely misunderstood.

Djaq hurried away from where the conversation she had overheard had taken place, making her way deeper into the town. She kept hearing word of the store being empty, food being destroyed, outlaws being caught, outlaws being hanged. Her ears still did not want to cooperate.

When she finally reached the market, she slipped behind a large sheet that had been strung up to shield off some goods. There, at this protected place, she admitted to herself that her ears were fine and her language skills sufficient. She swallowed, trying to stay calm, focused. She had to save the others. She had to save who could still be rescued. Later she could grieve for those who could not.

The sheriff had spread a story that had a base in some truth, though it still was a lie. A lie the people believed and Djaq knew this meant that most would not be willing to help the outlaws escape. They would have to manage on their own. She could only pray that they would not try to stop the gang from getting away, hope they remembered the good Robin had done, whatever they were led to believe now.

These thoughts were going through her head, when she felt her hope being shattered at what she saw. It was in the distance, on the castle yard, but she could not doubt her eyes, as she had tried to doubt her ears. What she saw told her that she could not trust the people to remember the good. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that these were only ordinary, hardworking people who believed the basis of their survival for the coming cold and dark season gone. They were not vile; they were despaired, though she was still abhorred to see what some of them were doing.

Her heart went out to Robin as she made her way over to the castle yard. Nobody was blocking the gate, the people were allowed to move freely through it, surely to see the outlaw who was bound there. There were guards placed at his side, and Djaq wondered if it was more for his protection from the blood lust of the people, or in order to keep Robin from fleeing, however he was supposed to manage such a feat in his situation.

She knew she wouldn't be able to free him with the guards, and the people, around. They would be at her in moments. She would have to wait and bide her time again. She saw the ready gallows and the strained face of Robin, and guessed that she had not much time for waiting. She considered approaching him, maybe able to give a few comforting words to him, but then she knew she did not want to draw anyone's attention to herself. Some words from her might help Robin now, but they might hurt them all even more later if she did not manage to stay undetected.

She watched him for some moments though, hoping he might look up and catch her gaze. When he did not do so, she turned away sadly and walked back into the streets of Nottingham. She wondered how the situation would be at night. Would they leave Robin out there? Would still guards be with him? Maybe she would have a chance to free him then, when the castle and the rest of Nottingham was sleeping. Then there were the other outlaws. She would need Robin to get into the dungeons. Guards would be everywhere. She remembered the day she had been kept prisoner by the sheriff. Acid dissolving the metal bars of the cell had then helped her escape it, only for her to run into the jailer.

It created an additional problem. If she freed Robin and did not manage quickly to rescue the other outlaws as well, it would end badly for them, as the sheriff's wrath about Robin's escape would prove. So getting to the outlaws first so they could all come for Robin afterwards seemed to be the better solution, but there was still the question as to how she could accomplish that.

She let her mind wander through these questions while her eyes and ears remained focused on the world around her. She walked over the market place again, watching and listening to the people. It was then that she believed to see a familiar face. She shoved through several people to reach her.

“Marian!”

The woman turned around, surprise on her face. “Djaq.” After the initial smile her face returned to a strained expression that the Saracen could understand very well. “We've got to talk,” Marian said, glancing towards the castle yard.

“Is it safe to talk here?” Djaq asked quietly, pressing her lips together in emphasis and hinting a glance behind the other woman. A guard was standing some feet away and he seemed to be paying attention to the two of them, seemed almost about to come over.

Marian smiled, turning around to look at the man briefly before facing Djaq again. “It's Will.”

“Will?” the Saracen asked sharply, looking closer at the guard now, recognizing the man's features under the helmet he was wearing, something she had missed earlier, as she had not expected to see him. She had not expected to see him again at all, and it was a small smile that came to her face now. “He got away.”

Marian nodded, tension still in her expression. “The sheriff has Robin's men in the dungeons,” she said quietly. “Robin... you have seen him, I think.”

“We are going to save them,” Djaq assured her, elevated and hopeful thanks to Will's appearance.

“But you're right. We've got to go somewhere else,” Marian said quickly. “You can come with us into the castle.”

“Into the castle?” Djaq saw all the opportunities this would offer.

“You can be my maid. As Will here is my guard,” she smiled, “nobody's going to know you didn't leave with me earlier.” She looked at the other woman. “You're going to need some other clothes though.”

“Where am I going to get them?”

“I'm going to buy some at the market.”

Djaq nodded and Marian walked off to fulfill the task, Will following behind her. Djaq watched him and saw that he still had trouble with his injured leg. She would have to ask about it later, would hopefully get a chance to take a look at it when they would be in the castle and help him with the pain. There were also so many things she wanted to ask him. They were many things to be discussed, plans to be made. And they had little time, she knew that.

* * *

Allan had debated it. He had debated an opportunity that wasn't even there yet, but he had decided that he had to think about it. Gisborne surely had to appreciate the work Allan had done during the last months, and although he hadn't started it fully voluntarily at first, he figured that he could just as well use the appreciation he should have gained with the man. It was certainly better than hanging.

Gisborne hadn't shown his face in the dungeons yet since the outlaws has been brought here, but as Allan knew painfully enough, the man sometimes did drop in. And once he would actually come... Allan had to prepared for that, would need to have made a decision what to do.

It wasn't easy. He couldn't outright ask Gisborne to release him in recognition of what had been. If the attempt failed, the other two outlaws would kill him, Allan was sure about that. The mood in the cell was dark. Much had been yelling after Robin for several minutes when they had taken him away, cursing the guards with violent words, and had then succumbed to grief, crying bitterly. Allan had felt very uncomfortable and had let John handle the situation.

It felt strange. He couldn't quite believe yet that both Will and Robin were gone. It felt wrong that they were sitting in the dungeons while their leader was hanged outside. Allan wasn't quite sure this was the only thing they had done to him. It certainly showed that the sheriff meant business and Allan felt that he had to do something or he and the other two outlaws would hang as well.

He had to convince Gisborne to let him go. Once he had achieved that he'd be able to come back for Much and John. They would still be angry then, but if he saved their lives they would surely be ready to forgive him. In order for that to come to be, he had to get out of here first, and this without risking being killed by the other two grieving men who would probably blame him for Will's and Robin's death if they learned of his cooperation with Gisborne. They wouldn't care that there was no truth behind that. Allan was certain he hadn't told Gisborne anything that had led to this mess. He would never do anything such as this.

As the day moved on Allan had to realize that Gisborne wasn't coming. It slowly dawned on him that the man wouldn't do so at all. The Master-At-Arms didn't need Allan anymore, as he reluctantly had to admit to himself. Gisborne had got what he had wanted; Robin. Robin was dead and Allan could deliver no more information about him that would be of any use to the sheriff's man.

Much had become quiet by now. He was sitting on the hard floor of the cell, his back leaning against the stone wall. There were no tears in his face anymore, but Allan found it disturbing that he was so quiet. John joined him in his silence.

Allan tried to catch the man's gaze, but John didn't look up.

“Maybe he got away,” Much said suddenly. “He's good at that.”

Allan grimaced, not quite ready for so much optimism.

“Yes, I'm sure he did,” Much went on, rubbing his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Why didn't he come back for us then?” Allan pointed out, feeling somewhat uncomfortable dashing Much's hopes.

“He's working on that,” the man nodded. “He's going to get Djaq and they'll come back for us.”

John remained silent. Allan would have liked to believe what Much was saying, but he was sure that the sheriff wouldn't have risked Robin getting away. The archer had managed unlikely escapes before, but even Robin couldn't do much on his own with all the guards around and without any weapon. Allan didn't believe he had managed to get away, and was actually fairly certain that the man's body was still swinging on the gallows outside, much to the sheriff's enjoyment.

Allan swallowed, remembering his own experience with the noose. Will had been there too, back then, when Robin had first saved them. Death had caught up with Will now and Allan was afraid he'd do so with him little later, if he didn't find a way to talk himself out of it.


	8. A Fleeting Glance

Marian was upset. She didn't want to admit it, as she certainly had no time to dwell on feelings like that, but the day's happenings had left a lump in her throat that didn't want to go away. She felt like crying, but told herself that she had no reason for crying quite yet. If she kept herself together, she could stop the worst from happening, she knew that.

She had managed to help Will in the morning. At first she had worried that she wouldn't be able to, when she had watched the ongoings on the castle yard early in the day. It had been an unpleasant surprise for her to see the outlaw being led to the gallows, as she hadn't known before that he had even been captured. In the course of minutes he had been prepared to hang and Marian had seen no way to help him in the short period of time she had. Then the sheriff had ridden away and Will had managed to escape into the castle, and Marian had risked her cover, catching him on his flight and hiding him in her chamber.

The search for the outlaw hadn't gone on for long and nobody had even come to look in her room, as the attention of the castle's inhabitants was drawn to the much greater spectacle outside when Gisborne and the sheriff had returned with the new prisoners. As upsetting as that had been, Marian had then hoped that she and Will would have time to plot an escape for the outlaws. This hope had been dashed soon after.

Marian and Will, still clad as a guard, were on their way out of the castle, when the tumult started. The sheriff and guards arrived, people from the town collecting on the yard and Marian watched from one of the galleries as Robin was brought out of the dungeons. She was scared. Scared to be helpless. Will didn't let her watch long, as the archer was brought before the gallows. He took her by the shoulders, pulling her away.

“You don't want to watch this,” he said quietly, but urgently.

“We have to do something.”

“There are too many guards…”

“Robin saved you when there were just as many guards around!” Marian turned away from him, although she knew he was right, and stepped forward to see the happenings on the yard.

“Robin wouldn't want you to give your life, Marian,” Will said quietly behind her, but she could hear the strain in his voice, knowing he wanted to jump in there, too. The sheriff was talking, telling the story that enraged the people. Marian had no ear for it. She was looking at Robin, her mind racing as to what she could do. Her feelings had long decided that she would do something, there was only the question what, and her reason stopped her from rushing down there until she had at least half of a plan, as Robin would call it.

Her heart wanted her to go, fighting every single one of the guards if she had to. Her cover didn't matter anymore. What would matter at all, if they killed Robin? With a last glance at him, Marian turned away, pulled out her dagger, wishing she had more of a weapon on her.

Will followed on her heels along the castle walls, down the stairs and onto the yard. Then she saw it. They were not hanging Robin, at least not quite yet. Marian had made her own experiences with this type of game of the sheriff, although it had been far from as bad as what she was watching now. She stood nailed to the spot, Will next to her, both of them blocked from getting any closer by the mass of people.

When the sheriff had ordered her hair to be cut off in public it had been in order to humiliate her. The same thought was behind what was happening now, only that the sheriff intended to destroy Robin, not just put him in his place. It was obvious he planned to let him stay out there for a while, and Will finally convinced Marian with quiet words that they would have to wait, wait till they had a better chance to save him. They also had to think of the other outlaws who were still in the dungeons, too. A hasty, botched rescue attempt might not only endanger Robin's life but the other’s as well.

So they moved on to the market, trying to collect their thoughts and come up with a plan. It was a pleasant surprise to meet Djaq there, and it raised their hopes. A quick plan enabled them to smuggle the Saracen into the castle, and now all three of them were sitting in Marian's chamber.

She was glad that Gisborne had not shown up so far. He had obviously been busy with all that had happened as well, but she guessed that he would not let it take from himself to see her that day anyway.

“We need a plan,” Will voiced what everyone of them was thinking. “Do you know a way to get into the dungeons without meeting all the guards?”

She shook her head. “I can visit my father, but he's in another part of the dungeons than the one they have brought them. And that's heavily guarded.”

“The sheriff is not taking any chances,” Djaq, now clad in a servant's dress, nodded. “We have to wait till the hanging.”

Will looked at her, stunned. “We can't do that!”

“Only so can we get to them.” She returned his earnest gaze.

“We don't know when the hanging is going to be,” Marian pointed out. “It could be tomorrow or it could be next month.”

“The sheriff isn't going to wait that long. He was quick trying to hang me,” Will grimaced.

“What about Robin? We can't leave him there for days.” Marian shook her head, moving to her feet.

“Is he getting any food, water?” Djaq asked in a worried voice.

“I don't think so,” Marian said, walking halfway to the window of the room. “The sheriff sometimes punishes people this way, but it is usually for a few hours. It's not like that now, quite the opposite.” She stepped to the window and looked outside onto the yard. Robin had been there since the morning and the sheriff would certainly not release him until he was to hang.

“Can you go and talk to Robin?” Will suggested. “You could tell him that Djaq and I are here, that we're trying to come up with a plan...”

Marian shook her head. “Not if I want to keep my alliance with you and Robin secret.” She remembered her feelings in the morning when she had been more than ready to blow her cover to save him. She hadn't seen an alternative then, but now she looked at it more realistically and saw that she would have to keep her secret in order to help him and the other outlaws.

She moved away from the window. She knew that she had to keep her cover, but still, she actually wanted to talk to Robin. Nobody else was, at least nobody who didn't want to see him hang. She wanted to tell him that they were all there, trying to help. She wanted to tell him that Will was alright, a fact the man certainly didn't know yet. She wanted to tell him not to give up. She knew he was not one to do that, but she also realized that it all had to bear him down, to not know about the fate of his men, to be blamed and vilified by the people like that, to be alone and helpless. This was the situation the sheriff had wanted, she could see that. The man wanted to break Robin before he would kill him. And she had to do something about it, if she wanted to get things right again.

There was a knock at her door and Marian was startled from her thoughts.

“Hide somewhere,” she whispered fiercely to the two outlaws.

“Marian?” she could hear Guy's voice from the door. She ran over to it with quick steps, holding it closed.

“Guy? This is not a good time,” she said through the door.

“What is wrong?”

“I'm... feeling unwell.” This wasn't even a lie. She closed her eyes, hoping he would leave, would not enter the room.

“Can I get you something? Shall I send for a physician?” Guy urged.

“No, that's not necessary,” she said quickly, but she could already feel him pushing the door open, and she had to step back to let him in. She swallowed, hoping Djaq and Will were out of sight or it would end fatally for all of them, including any hopes to help Robin and his men.

“You're pale,” Guy said, as if it was a confirmation of what she had said.

“Yes, I'm not feeling well,” she repeated her earlier statement. “It's just a headache.” She tried for a smile.

Gisborne nodded. “You need rest.”

“Yes.” She hoped he would be leaving now.

“You've been to the market today?” he asked though, stepping a little further into the room and looking around. Marian turned to him and saw that the room seemed to be empty apart from the two of them. Will and Djaq were nowhere to be seen.

“Yes, a little bit of exercise is doing good.” She smiled again, before she added, “A guard was with me.”

“Which is advisable in this atmosphere. The people are riled up. You cannot know what deeds they are capable of. It is not safe for a lady.” Guy's expression was grave.

“The sheriff riled them up,” Marian said, before she could stop herself. She actually didn't want to prolong the conversation with Guy.

Some moments passed before the man answered. “He did.”

“You do not approve of it.” It wasn't a question.

“I think it is not wise to drive the people to act out their lowest feelings.” He paused. “We should just kill Hood and the outlaws and keep the order.”

Marian bit on her lip, forcing herself to a silent nod. “I am tired,” she said finally, hoping to make him leave at last.

“Good night, then,” he said, and she smiled relieved.

“Good night.”

He turned and took some moments to walk out of the door, closing it behind himself.

Marian turned back to her room, looking around to see if she could find the outlaws. Her gaze fell on her bed and she bent down to look under it. She was met with two pairs of eyes gazing at her.

“You can come out from under my bed now.”

Djaq and Will crawled out and moved to their feet.

“I have to go and see Robin,” Marian told them decidedly.

“How are you going to do it?” the Saracen wanted to know, sitting down next to Will on Marian's bed.

“In disguise,” she said simply.

“The Nightwatchman?” Will asked surprised.

“The guards would hardly let me get near Robin then,” Marian shook her head. “I'm going to take another servant's dress I have. It has worked before.”

“I'm coming,” Will declared, standing up.

Marian shook her head. “It would only draw attention if a guard comes along.” She didn't tell him that she simply wanted to go alone. “You can have Djaq take a look at your leg,” she suggested. “And then you can prepare some things because I think I might have half of a plan...”

* * *

He wasn't able to sit down, or move in any other way his hurting legs demanded him to do, the rope that bound him keeping him from doing so, no matter how sore he felt. Then there was the tiredness. Robin hadn't slept in a long while now, and he figured that he would soon test the old question as to whether one could sleep while standing on one's feet. The pain at first did not want to let him fall asleep, but by the end of the day his tired body didn't care anymore.

He was in an uncomfortable slumber, when he was rudely awoken. Disoriented he tried to move around, but found he couldn't. His eyes blinked and he then he saw the sheriff standing in front of him in the fading light of the day.

“Welcome back,” Vaysey said with a grin, and Robin just wanted to go back to the darkness that kept the pain at the back of his consciousness. “Now how are we feeling?” the sheriff asked with feigned friendliness. “Tired? Pained? Thirsty? Hungry?”

For Robin every one of these things was true, but he did not make a sound, avoiding to look at the man at all.

“Then you know how the poor people are feeling, and just because of you!” Vaysey went on. “They hate you now, you know that? They have shown you, haven't they? I didn't have to lay a finger on you. The people did it all themselves, because they despise you. Now how is that a for a rude awakening?”

Robin was still silent, not even trusting his voice as dry as it was to form coherent words.

“You wonder how all of this could have happened, don't you?” the sheriff mused, strutting around the archer.

“You planted spies,” Robin finally croaked with a hoarse voice.

“Ah, I did not plant them all. Some of them you grew yourself.“

“Lies.”

“Don't believe me? Ask them yourself...,” the sheriff mocked. “Oh, you can't. What a shame....not really, if you think about it. If you weren't so trusting of your men, you wouldn't be here...”

Robin didn't believe it. He was here because the sheriff had gone to great lengths to hurt all the people in Nottingham just to get to him. Vaysey was telling lies. Nothing what he said was true.

“Oh well,” the man went on. “You know what they all say: Live and learn...except for in this case you won't be living....”

After that the sheriff left with lofty strides, and Robin was glad that he was finally alone again, alone so he could think, sleep, think.

He really had been wondering how all of this could have happened. The outlaws had thought they had detected the last cruelty of the sheriff when they discovered the grain supplies were poisoned. They just hadn't realized that this wasn't the end of it.

Of course, if Will had not been caught, they would have had no reason to go to Nottingham and walk into the trap there. Still, the people would have heard the stories, would have been opposed to him just as much, only then the outlaws would have been able to act, try to convince them of the truth, try to help.

The sheriff claimed he had a spy inside the gang, but Robin did not believe it. He trusted all of his men. But then Vaysey had claimed that he was too trusting. Robin didn't want to believe anything the man said, but as he was the one who was being humiliated, the one who was going to hang, and the sheriff was the one winning, Robin had to wonder if he had made a mistake after all. Maybe he was too trusting...

The thought followed him as the sun went down, leaving the air colder even than before. Robin wondered how long it would go on, wondered if the sheriff would have him hang the next morning. He knew he had to hope that the sheriff would continue his game for longer, more time allowing an opportunity for rescue to come. But then Robin did not know if he could even still believe in such, and the night in front of him seemed so long already. He stubbornly reminded himself that he had seen much worse, so much worse, back in the war. They had been on the battlefield endlessly, fighting and killing and seeing gruesome pictures that would make even Vaysey turn away in horror. It had been so much worse, and still he had lived...

Robin fell in an uneasy sleep again, feelings of hurt, of loss and of betrayal on his mind. He woke to the lightheaded realization that the time of Robin Hood was maybe over. If there was nobody left who believed in that man, he Robin, just Robin, might not be able to fight it any longer.

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to more rational thoughts, pushing away the weakness in his mind that only seemed to want to force his body to stop, to sleep, to let it all rest. He had to trust himself.

He thought of the lads then. He trusted them, too. Much was beyond any doubt. The man had been following him loyally for many years, was now awaiting hanging having followed Robin everywhere, even into the forest, into outlawry. John... he had not known the man for a long time, but he did not doubt him for a second either.

Allan was maybe another case. Robin trusted him, but knew of the tendencies the man had in himself. Constant lying and trickery had brought him to the gallows already, before Robin had saved him, and he was sure the man had not left that completely behind himself. But he was down there in the dungeons as well. If he were a traitor, he would have made sure not to be caught himself, having to know that the sheriff would get rid of him, too, once he had Robin killed.

It raised the question about Djaq, but Robin rejected the thought quickly. He could trust Djaq absolutely. There was no way on earth or beyond she would betray him to the sheriff. But then she had disappeared somehow, and Robin began to wonder if she truly had managed to escape before the others had been captured, or if she had simply been let go. It was hard to imagine... Then there was Will...

Will was dead and Robin would never have doubted him. The thought lingered with him, hoping the man had known how much they appreciated him. Will, who by every right should be dead. Should be...but there was no body, as Robin remembered. The sheriff always liked to display his catches and had done so more often than once, but not with Will's body... Robin didn't want Will to be dead, but as the sleep almost overtook him again in his exhaustion, he found himself wondering if he rather wanted him to be a traitor.

Robin questioned in his mind if Will had even been wounded. He had not seen it with his own eyes. It had been Djaq that had said so. The same woman who was now nowhere to be seen. Was it her, or both of them, he could not say. He did not want to believe it. None of his men would betray him, he had to hold onto that hope.

It was the sheriff, the man was playing with his tired mind. This thought made Robin open his eyes, as if he expected Vaysey to be there once again, but he was not.

There were only few people moving on the yard now as the night had fallen. The guards had changed a while ago, but apart from them only few town's people came to look now. They were only watching, leaving him in peace apart from that. Robin wasn't paying much attention to them, still lost in his thoughts, hardly able to even look straight ahead.

When he finally forced himself to lift his head though, he stared into the eyes of someone he had not expected to see. Marian was watching him sternly, covered by a ragged cloth that did not betray the noblewoman. When she saw him looking at her, her expression turned to a smile, though it was not a joyful one, but one that held determination. She wanted to help, planned to do so, it was what her expression told him.

Robin did not know what she could do, alone against all of the sheriff's guards. But her expression showed confidence. Before she turned away, he thought he also detected sadness in her face. Maybe her confidence was not as large as she had tried to make him believe. Maybe she wondered if she saw him for the last time. Robin tried to banish these thoughts, trying to keep the hope she had wanted to give him.

Marian walked away, vanishing from sight as she left the castle yard. It all had happened so quickly, enough so that he had to wonder if he had even really seen her, or simply imagined it because he had wanted it so badly. Robin was now certain that all of it would end soon, one way or another.


	9. Night Watch

Will looked out into the night. The castle yard was dark by now, only infrequently illuminated by torches that were carried by. He was watching from Marian's chamber what was going on outside, while Djaq was preparing a new dressing for his wound.

He felt uncomfortable. Here he was, safe from any harm for now, the Saracen preparing to treat his injury, while the other man was still out there in the cold night, unknowing what would happen to him.

Will had almost missed Marian's appearance on the yard, although he had known she would be coming. It was probably a good thing that he had had a hard time picking her out, as it meant that she wasn't easy to recognize. She didn't linger long, didn't approach Robin at all, although Will could only imagine what it cost her to turn away after only moments. But as Djaq had stated as well, it wouldn't help Robin in the long run, if they got themselves caught now. They all would have liked to go down there, they probably might have managed to overcome the guards and free the man, but then the whole castle would have been on alert as to the presence of other outlaws. It was likely being assumed that Will had managed to flee the town, as he had not been caught after escaping the gallows, but the sheriff and his men could have no knowledge about there being more than one man getting ready to save the gang.

Still, it had been on all of their minds to go and free Robin now and have him later lead them to come back for the others. But they feared to seal the fate of John, Much and Allan this way. If Robin was gone, the sheriff might kill the other outlaws in rage or retribution. They figured as long as he still had Robin, he would stick to his preferred ceremony of executing the men in a great spectacle outside, which was what they had to wait for.

Right now they were working off the assumption that it would happen the next morning. It was also what they were hoping for. Djaq had told Will in quiet, yet worried words what would happen if Robin was to be left in his position for very much longer. If he did not die of thirst, the pain in his body would become unbearable, if this was not even already the case. Will and Marian had heard Vaysey talking about hanging the archer, so they were fairly certain he would not want the man to die before that happened.

“It is ready,” Djaq said quietly and Will turned away from the window, looking at her work. He sat down on the floor and rolled up the leg of his leggings. Djaq carefully removed the bandage Marian had made in the morning and Will looked at the wound that seemed to be even more bruised than it was earlier that day, but it was beginning to scab as well. “It will be alright,” Djaq assured him, as she applied her own dressing. “It will hurt for a few days still, but it is healing.”

Will nodded. He was glad that she was here, that they had found her in the town, not only because it meant they were three people now who would try and rescue the others, but also because it had answered his worried question as to what had become of her, when Robin and the lads had been captured. He simply had not been able to be certain that she had fled; there could have been all kinds of reasons for her absence after all, some of them he rather did not want to dwell on.

“We have to go then,” he said just as quietly as she was talking, both of them careful to avoid detection. “We wanted to be back before midnight.” They still had much to do before the morning, if they hoped to go along with their plan, hoped to rescue all of the gang.

As soon as Djaq was finished with the new bandage, Will moved to his feet, trying to ignore the pain that came from his leg still, reminding himself of the Saracen's assuring words. She would not lie about it, so he could be certain that the leg was healing. He put on the guard's uniform again, while Djaq covered herself with a long cloak. Then they set off into the dark castle.

Marian had described the way and they had no trouble following her instructions. They slipped quietly through the corridors, one of them always listening ahead, the other making sure nobody was following them. Finally they made it to the door that was their destination. Will stepped forward, feeling his way around the hinge. He was unwilling to light a torch before he really had to, so he did his best to work in the dark, the sounds his tool was making enough of an alert in his mind.

“I'm done,” he whispered finally, as he had the door unhinged. Djaq hurried from her watch-out point to him and with her help they made it into the room in the course of moments.

The Saracen now lit a small light, trying to shield it from the outside as best as she could with her body. Will looked around in the chamber they had broken into. It contained weapons of different kinds and sizes. They were looking for bows in particular and had also considered taking as many swords as they could carry without incident back to Marian's quarters. As they hoped to free the outlaws, they also had to plan to arm them once that was done, guessing they still would have to fight their way out of the town.

“We take two bows,” Will suggested, but Djaq shook her head.

“Three,” she whispered. “One for Robin.”

Will nodded to that, although he was uncertain as to the likelihood of Robin being able to use a bow tomorrow.

“Here are some arrows,” he said, turning to look at the other side of the room. “How many swords?”

“Does Marian need one?”

“Take one, just to be sure. She had a dagger earlier, but I doubt that will do her much good if she needs to fight.”

Djaq handed him the weapons one by one out of the room and Will placed them carefully outside. It would have been faster to simply take the weapons and hurry back to Marian's room, but they had decided to take the slower approach and return the door to its earlier state in the hope that the theft would not be noticed quickly. What they could certainly not need was a search of the castle for the stolen weapons. Marian was taking enough of a risk hiding the two outlaws, one of them freshly escaped from the gallows, in her chamber.

As soon as that task was done, Djaq extinguished the light and the two of them picked up the weapons as quietly as possible, sneaking back to where they had come from. With every turn they took, with every clang the weapons made, Will feared they might run into a guard. He was wearing one of their uniforms as well, but he guessed that he would still have a hard time explaining what he and a Saracen pretending to be a servant girl were doing carrying weapons around at night.

Finally they closed the door of Marian's chamber behind themselves. Will only startled slightly when he heard an unexpected voice speak up.

“Has everything gone alright?” Marian asked quietly, moving away from her bed and lighting a candle that's shine flickered in the room.

“We have everything,” Djaq confirmed.

“I've got this,” the other woman told them, holding up a patch of leather. “Do you want to carve it?” she asked Will.

“Sure.” He took the offered material, moving with it to the window again, looking outside.

“Nothing has changed,” Marian reported in a quiet voice.

“You were down there...” Will didn't finish the thought.

Marian took some moments before she answered. “I'm not sure he even recognized me. He looked very tired, of course, could barely hold himself up.”

Will pressed his lips together, glancing outside again. “I will keep the first watch,” he decided. “I'll wake you, if anything happens.”

“I'm not sure I can sleep,” Marian replied.

Will shook his head. “We won't be of much help if we're just as tired as Robin. I promise you, we will get him and the others out.”

Marian nodded and Djaq stepped next to him. “When are you going to leave?”

“Before sunrise.”

“You need sleep, too, Will.”

He nodded. “I'll wake you in a few hours, so you can take over watch.”

“Do not forget it,” she warned.

“I won't,” he promised her with a thin smile, as she drew back into the darkness of the chamber to find a soft spot to lie down and get some rest.

Will set to work carving the leather Marian had given him, taking from now and then a look outside into the yard. If anything happened down there, if anyone was trying to harm Robin before the morning, he would have to wake Djaq and Marian, and they would have to act earlier than their plan intended. Such a scenario would promise to be fatal for at least someone, whether it was Robin himself, the outlaws conspiring in the castle now, or the ones still down in the dungeons. Will hoped that all would be calm till the morning and that a hanging would be occasioned then that would provide them with the opportunity they needed.

* * *

It was completely dark. Complete darkness usually meant it was time to sleep. But Much couldn't sleep. He was still sitting on the floor of the cell, leaning against the wall. The regular sound of breathing next to him told him that at least John had managed to go to sleep. Much was aware of the fact though that Allan was not sleeping either.

He wondered about the man. He appeared to be uncommonly quiet. Much had not paid any attention to it, at first, too upset about Robin. He swallowed still, as he thought of it. The only thing keeping him calm right now was his belief that Robin had somehow managed to escape. There might be no logical reason that should have made him believe that as he had seen how the man had been dragged away by several guards, off to hang. But Much held a conviction in himself that told him that Robin always got away, that Robin would always find a way to do so, no matter which trouble he had managed to get himself into. There had been desperation in Much at first, but now he was calm because that belief was there. But he couldn’t stand the quietness.

“Allan?”

“Mmh?”

“You're not sleeping,” Much stated, looking into the darkness.

“Now, why would I?” the other man replied and Much could imagine him shrugging.

“Because it's at night.” It was the simple fact, but of course Much was not resting either and he expected Allan to point that out, but the man remained silent. It was surprising that he was not speaking a lot. Much did not like it; it gave him a feeling of something being wrong. Well, there were certainly many things wrong right now, but still. For a few minutes Much was quiet as well, but then he spoke again, “Allan?”

“Mmh?”

“How is it, being hanged?” He wondered about himself, asking this question. It went against his conviction that Robin would come and save them. He almost felt guilty about it, as if he was doubting Robin. Allan took his time in answering.

“I haven't tried it yet.”

“Well, actually you have. But Robin saved you,” Much nodded though the other man would not be able to see the motion.

“Don't remind me of that,” Allan said flatly.

“That Robin saved you?”

“No, the hanging.”

There was silence once more and Much let his thoughts wander, before he picked up the conversation again.

“I don't want to try it.”

Allan didn't answer and Much was confused. Surely, he had expected different of the man. After a while, he spoke again though, but his voice sounded strange to Much's ears.

“Much, do you really think Robin's still alive?”

Much tensed. Of course Robin was still alive. Everything else was impossible. “I'm sure he is,” he answered stubbornly, ready to argue the point, but Allan turned the conversation into a different direction.

“You've known him for a long time, haven't you?”

He frowned. “Of course I have. And you know that. And you've known him, too, for a while.”

“But you know him better, maybe even better than he knows himself.”

Much thought about that. He had often felt that Robin was hiding things even from himself, things that he could not hide from Much though. So maybe Allan was right. He knew Robin well.

“Do you think Robin is a forgiving man?”

“Of course he is,” Much said decidedly. “He even gave your brother and his friends another chance after they tried to rob Marian and her father!”

'We've all done wrong, you know," Allan spoke again, his voice strained. "I mean...things we normally wouldn't have done..."

"But they aren't wrong," Much argued. "They're right...what the sheriff does...that's wrong. And anyone that works for him of course."

“Does Robin think so, too?”

“He hates Gisborne.”

“Well, for other reasons than just for working for the sheriff, I suppose,” Allan answered back.

Much was quiet, wondering what the other man was even talking about. He had no idea why Allan suddenly wanted to talk about Robin in this manner. Much didn't mind talking about Robin. But earlier Allan had not any inclination to even believe the man to still be alive, so why was he asking all these questions about him now?

They sat in silence and darkness and Much fell in somewhat of a slumber, all the wondering still on his mind. It was a sudden stream of light that woke him. The jailer was carrying a torch into the dungeons, coming up to the cell that housed the three outlaws. Much glanced around and saw that John and Allan were alert as well. Now Much wondering too, if John had been awake earlier and had heard all the things Allan had asked. Maybe Much would get a chance later to hear the man's opinion.

“Get up, you lot,” the jailer said. “Time to get ready.” He smiled.

Much didn't move to his feet and neither did John, but Allan stood up. He moved to the bars of the cell. “Where's Gisborne?” he asked the jailer.

The man laughed. “Sir Guy is not available to you. But he'll surely be around to watch you hang!”

Much had little time to wonder why Allan had asked for Gisborne, but he knew he didn't like the situation at all. Hanging was still not something he was keen to try.

* * *

Will's breathing was calm. He felt comfortable and warm. Everything was quiet and no worried thoughts interrupted the peace of his slumber.

“Will,” a voice called him then, as someone was shaking him lightly.

“What?”

“It is time,” Djaq said quietly and Will opened his eyes, sitting up slowly.

It was still dark outside, only a flickering candle lighting the room. Will could see Marian in the shine of it. She was awake as well. His gaze turned to Djaq and he saw that she was ready to go. It was he who had to leave first though, Marian and Djaq staying behind at the chamber until it was time to act for them. Their plan was dangerous, for each and every one of them, but they had decided that they had to do it and none of them had hesitated.

It was a matter-of-fact for Will. Robin had saved his life and now there was no doubt he would do same for him and his friends. The same applied to Djaq. Marian was a different matter though, at least in Will's mind. Her position wasn't as stable and secure as it had once been, her home gone and her father held captive, but still she had more to lose than Will had.

Will got up and pulled on the guard's uniform once again. It had proven very useful indeed. He would not have dared showing his face in the castle without it. Once he had left the building behind him, he would have to show who he really was though, only so would he be able to do what he needed to.

Once he was done, he picked up one of the swords he and Djaq had stolen during the night. He also took a bow and a quiver of arrows, fixing both on his back. Then he was ready to go. Djaq had helped him, while Marian had taken over the watch of the castle yard. Nothing had happened during Will's and Djaq's watches.

“Good luck,“ Marian said then and Will nodded towards her.

“Take care,“ he said, looking at Marian and then at Djaq.

“You too,“ the Saracen replied and held the door open for him. He moved through it, glancing back into the room for a brief moment, before heading off. The castle lay still in darkness save for the shine of lone torches on the walls. Will strode through the corridors, trying to give the appearance of knowing that he had every right to be there. Still, he took care to avoid unnecessary noise.

His way went quicker than he had thought and soon he stepped outside into the early morning. The sun had not risen yet and Will knew he had still much to do before the first light would appear. He would have to keep watch at the gallows. As soon as preparations were made there, Will would have to be ready, too. He saw Robin in the yard, his eyes closed, and unmoving. Will could see his chest rising and falling though. He dared not to approach the man because of the guards around him, so he set his gaze forward, marching over the yard as if he knew exactly where he was going.

He made his way over to the tavern at the other side of the street. It was still dark and not very much time ago he would have wondered if the establishment was even open at this time, but early morning trips to Nottingham with Allan had shown him that some people started drinking very early in the day. The inn he entered now was notorious for being open to all folks at all times. Before he headed inside, Will cast another glance into the direction of the castle yard, but there everything was still quiet.

The comparative emptiness of the tavern wasn't the only difference to the night. It was all also considerable less smoky in the room than it would be at night, as Will moved inside. As soon as the door fell shut behind him, he removed the helmet of his uniform, unwilling to alarm the guests that had already made their way to the inn and through one or more drinks. Guards went to the pub as well, but Will wanted to make sure nobody thought he was there on official business.

He was sure some people would recognize him. The patron certainly would, as Allan had made too much of a show of himself when he and Will had been there the last time. Will walked over to the bar, leaning on it, his heart beating fast as he thought of what he needed to do. It wasn't in his nature; it was Robin whose nature it was, not his. Still, of the three conspirators he had been the only choice. Nobody would listen to Djaq in the inn and Marian was not the woman of choice for obvious reasons either. She probably would have fared better than he, woman or not, but her secret association with the outlaws demanded that she stayed away from it.

“Will Scarlet,” the patron said, coming up to him. “I did not expect to see you in this world,” he chuckled.

“I'm alright,” Will replied dryly.

“Better than the other lads of your sorts then, aren't you?”

Will knew he was taking a risk with the next thing he said, for he did not know what the host's view of the outlaws was, didn't know if he felt the same hostility as many of his fellow men. He figured the man did not much care about matters such as this, as long as beer was flowing in large streams in his tavern.

“I'm here to get them out,” he told the man quietly.

The patron raised his eyebrows. “Now if you're not too late for some of them,” he said carefully, glancing slightly to the left and to the right. “You can't really know either if folk's going to be happy about any rescues.”

Will nodded. “This is what I am here about. The sheriff is telling lies.”

“No news to me, boy,” the other man shrugged.

“No, I'm telling you, we ambushed the food delivery, but it was poisoned, so we had to destroy it. We didn't want to, but we couldn't risk anyone eating it and dying from it.”

The other man shook his head. “People know what they've seen.”

“But they didn't see what they think they did!” Will exclaimed. “The food was poisoned! The sheriff did it, I'm sure of that. I have to save Robin and the others or the sheriff is winning!”

The patron grimaced and motioned with a nod behind Will. The outlaw turned around and came face to face with another man whose eyes were piercing into him.

“What are you saying? You want us to let that thief go? That one who's been burning all our food!?”

“The food was poisoned by the sheriff. We had to destroy it, so that no one would die from it,” Will explained in a strained voice.

“You're one of them then?” the other man asked.

Will nodded, hoping he would get a chance to explain it all in detail, convince the people of what the truth was, or at least convince them to let the outlaws flee Nottingham once they were freed.

His hope was dashed when the other man lunged out and hit him squarely in the face. Will fell back, holding his nose and ducked as the man reached back to beat him again. This wasn't going as planned...

“You... you...!” the man yelled. “You dare to show your face in this town and tell us you want to save that guy?” The man coughed. “That stuck-up noble who ran off into the forest when he didn't get his way and who's now running around destroying our food!?”

“We're not like that,” Will called. “We're helping. Robin's helping.” He ducked to the side again, but the man grabbed his arm, and Will turned around, swinging his own fist into the man's face. He was let go and staggered backwards. Several men were watching the fight. “I follow Robin because he saved me and my brother from the gallows,” he started to explain.

“Should've let you hang, my boy,” one of the men watching laughed.

Will ignored him and went on. “The sheriff killed my father because he spoke out against the sheriff's lies!” He swallowed. “My mother... she died, starved, because of the way the sheriff treats the people. Do you think I would follow Robin if he was the man you're saying he is, the man the sheriff is saying he is?”

“You've got a point,” one of the men admitted.

“If he's telling the truth that is,” the man who had hit Will intervened.

“I am,” Will insisted. He hated the fact that everyone was looking at him, waiting for him go on, to explain himself, but he forced himself to speak. “We ambushed the delivery of food that was coming to Nottingham because we thought the sheriff would not give any of it to the people, that he would only keep it to feed his army. We found the rats then, dead rats, in the sacks of grain and found out that the food was poisoned. We had to burn it; we didn't like doing it, but we couldn't risk anyone eating of it.”

“Unlikely story you're telling there,” another man pointed out.

“Hmph,” the thug puffed. “Saying it this way, not very likely that the outlaws would go and burn all the food if they could keep it all for themselves.”

“Yeah, but you've heard what the sheriff said. They've destroyed it so they can later come and do as if they're trying to help us.”

“I don't believe the sheriff,” another man brought into the discussion and Will noticed that the inn seemed to become more crowded. He could only hope that no sheriff's man was beyond the guests, at least none who would go and alert the sheriff as to what was happening.

“Neither do I.”

A man shook his head. “I don't care who's telling what. I'm just seeing that it's us who is suffering under the games the sheriff and the outlaws are playing.”

Will looked at the man with a cold feeling inside of him. He didn't want to believe this was what the town's people generally thought of the outlaws.

“Well, they've helped. Robin and his men.”

Will turned to the man who had spoken now, hoping his view would receive support. He noticed that daylight was streaming into the previously dim room now, and knew he had to hurry. If this all led to nothing, he would have to go and hope for the best; if the men let him go that was, now that he had identified himself as one of Robin's men.

“Yeah, they did,” one man confirmed, and then all barriers broke in the discussion and men argued every which way with each other.

“They did, but we don't know what happened with the food.”

“I think it wasn't right what they did with Robin.”

“He deserves it.”

“How do you know?”

“The people are starving because of him!”

“Some people live because of him!”

“They can't hang him!”

“He got what he had coming for him!”

“He's a good man.”

“What Will here said is true,” one man pointed at the outlaw. “He wouldn't follow Robin if he wasn't a good man. He's lost family because of the sheriff and follows him because Robin's the one who's helping against the sheriff.”

Will nodded quietly and most of the men fell silent.

“So you want to save his neck?” the man who had originally beaten him asked with raised eyebrows.

“His and the one's of my friends,” Will confirmed.

“So what does this have to do with us?” the man asked, sitting down on a bench and Will breathed a sigh of relief as tension seemed to flow out of the situation.

“I need your help,” he said earnestly.

“So you want us to risk our necks for the one's who we've thrown rotten eggs at yesterday?”

Will shook his head, surprised and uncomfortable about the open admittance of the man. “We don't want you to risk your lives for us. We just want to pass freely through town. Don't harm us. We won't harm you.”

“Fair enough,” the other man nodded and there was agreeing murmur. Will didn't know how many of the town's people would get to hear about the agreement in time, but it was a start, it was all he could do now.

“And I need horses,” he added quickly.

“Horses?” the patron exclaimed.

“One at the least,” the outlaw clarified carefully, counting that Robin would not be able to run from Nottingham. “More preferably,” he added. “We're going to send them back once we've reached the forest.” He hoped he wasn't trying the people's patience too much with his request.

“You can have one of mine,” the patron finally agreed. “And I can tell you that some guard left his horse here last night. Too drunk to ride, I tell you. You can take his, I guess.”

Will smiled thinly. “Thank you.” Two horses were certainly better than nothing. It would get Robin out of the town and another outlaw who would need it.

Now he only had to go and save Robin. Easier said than done it was certainly.


End file.
